


The Silver Prince

by Blade_Quill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Female Harry Potter, Grey Harry, Multi, Original Character(s), Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Politics, Slytherin Harry, Slytherins Being Slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-10-07 16:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 36,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10365054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blade_Quill/pseuds/Blade_Quill
Summary: The Prince of Slytherin is a position of immense power, control and influence. There hasn’t been a true prince accepted by magic since Tom Riddle. That changes when Jill Potter is sorted into Slytherin. In a world where Neville Longbottom is the boy-who-lived, Jill takes up the mantle of the Prince, while navigating a whole new challenge. Grey!Slytherin!Fem!Harry





	1. Chapter 1

It was a hot summer day in late July, and Jill Potter was sitting on her bed, enjoying a rare day of calm at the St. Jude’s Orphanage for Young Girls. The rest of the girls were on a week-long trip to the coast, but Jill had been left behind when she had landed in trouble for fighting the day before the trip. In all honesty, she had only wanted to get her book back from Jenna Alexander. But one moment Jenna had been holding the book above her head and the next, she had been tossed across the dining hall into a tray of dirty dishes and the book had dropped cleanly into Jill’s hands.

Jenna had screamed and called her a freak, and one of the dirty dishes had risen up and smacked her across the face. Jill was left standing mutely until one of the nuns had grabbed her arm and dragged her in front of Sister Marianne, who had then banned her from the trip.

Jill wasn’t all that mad about it. The girls at the orphanage did not like her, and she doubted it would be any different at the coast. She preferred to be alone either way, and she suspected that Sister Marianne knew it too, and she had deliberately decided to keep Jill at the orphanage so she could enjoy a few days of peace without the other girls bothering her.. Of all the nuns at the orphanage, Sister Marianne was the only one to show a hint of concern for Jill. The others thought of her as cursed at best, and a demon at worst.

This left Jill to stay up in her room and read in peace all day, and then go for a swim in the pond behind the orphanage in the late afternoon. Jill loved to swim but she couldn’t do it when the other girls were around because one of them would inevitably try to drown her. They wouldn’t succeed, because the girl pushing her would suddenly found herself being dragged down under water, giving Jill time to escape. 

Incidents like that were not uncommon. Most people knew that she was odd and it was better to leave her alone, but every once in a while, a bully would gather up courage to try and attack her, only to end up getting hurt in the process while Jill wouldn’t have a scratch on her. Some of the more cowardly ones would try and prank her by hiding her stuff or sabotaging her things but once again, it would be turned around on them instead of affecting Jill.

When she was younger, she had believed it was a Guardian Angel or even God who was protecting her. As she grew older, she began to contemplate the possibility of her having some form of unexpected power. Over the past year or so, she had realised that her power wasn’t restricted to her being in peril. In her quieter moments alone in her room, she had been able to levitate her book over to her a few times, and on colder nights, she could stoke the fire without leaving her covers. 

She wanted to do more but she had to be careful not to get caught. Jill had the room to herself because no one else wanted to share with her, but she doubted even Sister Marianne’s scarce affection would extend to Jill exhibiting signs of an unknown power.

That morning, Jill was sitting on her bed and carefully stacking her books back on the shelves from the pile on the floor. It took a lot of concentration from her, and after the book was successfully placed on the shelf after being levitated up from the floor, she was out of breath for ten minutes or so, as if she had run a marathon. Despite having done this for hours, she had only managed to put up five books up on the shelves, though she did realise that it got easier the longer she practiced. She had been in the process of putting up the next book when there was a knock on the door of her room, and the book clattered to the ground as her concentration broke.

Jill left the bed and opened her door quickly, surprised to find the cook at the door.

“Sister Marianne is asking for you in her office,” she said sullenly and walked off.

Jill felt a tingle of fear. Had someone seen her use her powers? She had kept her window open to let the sun in and even though she was up on the second floor, she couldn’t be certain that she had remained unseen. Taking a deep breath to calm down, Jill started making her way towards Sister Marianne’s office. The worst thing she could do in this moment was look guilty, because Sister Marianne would realise it right away. 

The door to Sister Marianne’s office was slightly ajar, and Jill could see her sitting stiffly in her chair, face pinched in the way it did when she was annoyed about something. A woman sat opposite her but Jill couldn’t see her face, only that she was wearing a shocking tartan pantsuit and had her grey hair in a high bun.

Jill knocked on the door and the two women looked at the door. “You sent for me, Sister?” asked Jill, stepping into the office.

“Yes, come in, Jillian,” said Sister Marianne, her face softening just the tiniest bit. “Take a seat.”

Jill felt a stab of irritation at the use of her full name, but she squashed it down as she sat down in the chair opposite the strange woman.

“This is Professor McGonagall,” said Sister Marianne. “She is here to speak with you.”

“Hello, Jill,” said Professor McGonagall. “It is very nice to meet you.”

“Hello,” said Jill, still wary of the woman.

“Professor McGonagall is a friend of the orphanage from the church in Caithness,” explained Sister Marianne. “She is one of the people entrusted with your future.”

“Entrusted by whom?” asked Jill.

“By your parents,” said Professor McGonagall.

Jill raised her eyebrows sceptically. “My parents?” she asked. “My parents are dead.”

“Yes, I know,” said Professor McGonagall, and her face appeared genuinely regretful. “I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts. It is the school that your parents went to, and you too have been registered there since birth.”

“You must understand, Jillian,” interrupted Sister Marianne, shooting a look at Professor McGonagall. “After your parents died, you were placed with your mother’s sister and her family. You were not brought here to St. Jude’s until a week after that. Professor McGonagall brought you here from your aunt and uncle’s house.”

“Why?” asked Jill, stunned. She had only ever been told that her parents were dead and she was left at the orphanage because there was no one else who could take her in. She didn’t even know she had an aunt.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. “There was an...incident at your aunt’s house,” she said. “They were attacked. I am sorry to tell you but your aunt and uncle perished in the attack along with their infant son.”

Jill’s mouth went dry, and her stomach turned to lead. She looked at Sister Marianne who was looking at her with something akin to pity. “Was I-was I still in the house?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Professor McGonagall with a deep sigh. “Their house was almost completely wrecked but we discovered you in your crib, safe from the rubble.”

“H-how?” asked Jill, eyes burning with unshed tears. She was never one to cry, but this day was changing that very fast.

Professor McGonagall sighed once more and looked at Sister Marianne, who nodded and stood up. “I’ll leave you both to talk,” said Sister Marianne, and left the office, closing the door behind her.

Jill was surprised at her abrupt exit but she looked at Professor McGonagall expectantly. The older woman cleared her throat before speaking.

“You survived, Jill, because you are special,” said Professor McGonagall. “You are special the way your parents were special.”

“What do you mean?” asked Jill, fascinated despite herself.

“Hogwarts is no ordinary school, Jill,” said Professor McGonagall. “It is a school for witches and wizards. It is a school for magic.”

Jill glared at her venomously. “I am not a freak!” she shouted. The glass on the window panes of Sister Marianne’s office shattered into bits. “You can’t just make up some story about magic to take me away to some institution. I am not stupid.”

Professor McGonagall didn’t flinch at her outburst. She drew out a stick from her suit jacket and waved it at the window. To Jill’s surprise, the glass flew back into place and the window was whole once more, with no sign that it had ever been broken. “You are neither a freak, nor stupid,” said Professor McGonagall calmly. “You are a witch. And a powerful one at that, judging by your bouts of accidental magic.”

Jill was staring at the repaired window in shock. She turned back to Professor McGonagall. “Tell me everything,” she said, her voice coming out just the tiniest bit sharper than usual.

This time, Professor McGonagall did flinch a little, and Jill realised that she had forgotten to use the polite voice she used around all adults. Usually, she would have corrected it, but she was still reeling from everything she had learned today. This was not the time for her to be guarded. She needed answers.

“Very well,” sighed Professor McGonagall, collecting herself relatively quickly. “Magic exists in this world. Our world. Hidden away from the world you have known until today. We have coexisted with non-magical people since the beginning of time. We call them Muggles. Generations of Muggles and witches and wizards have mingled through time, but our world is protected from them by a Statute of Secrecy.”

“We? You mean, I am really magic too?” asked Jill, her mind racing as it connected all the dots.

“Yes, you are,” said Professor McGonagall, and a small smile graced her face. “Just like your parents.”

A breath escaped Jill in a whoosh, and she looked down at her hands as she spoke. “Is that why I can-?” she stopped herself and looked up at Professor McGonagall, who had a curious look on her face.

“Yes?” asked Professor McGonagall.

Jill got a polite look on her face. “Is that why things break when I get angry?” she asked instead.

“You are exhibiting accidental magic,” explained Professor McGonagall. “Magic can be controlled and channelled through the use of a wand and proper instructions that you will receive at Hogwarts. Without proper training, magic flounders and grows unstable.”

Professor McGonagall reached into her suit jacket and pulled out an yellowish envelope that she handed to Jill. 

Jill took it and read the emerald writing on the back of the envelope.

**Miss J. Potter  
** Room 21  
St. Jude’s Orphanage  
London  
England 

She turned the envelope over and broke the wax seal. Inside, was a folded parchment that she pulled out and unfolded to read.

****

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

**Dear Ms. Potter,**

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress

Jill looked up at Professor McGonagall briefly before looking at the second page of the letter which contained a list of equipment and books needed for her first year at Hogwarts.

“Where do I get all of this?” asked Jill. “And how? The orphanage cannot afford-.”

“Your parents had substantial finances. It is being held in trust for you that you shall now be able to access,” explained Professor McGonagall, pulling out a small, golden key from her suit jacket. “As for where, well, that is somewhere I can take you.”

Jill sat up slightly and took the key handed to her. “How did they die?” she asked, staring at the key. “My parents. How did they die?”

Professor McGonagall looked uncomfortable. “They were murdered,” she said, finally.

Jill’s eyes widened. “By whom?” she asked.

“A dark wizard,” said Professor McGonagall. “The worst of our kind.”

“Why?” asked Jill faintly.

“Your parents were...powerful,” said Professor McGonagall. “Head Boy and Head Girl of Hogwarts in their time. The dark wizard...he wanted them to join him. They refused him and he…” she sniffed and looked away.

“Who was he? Was he arrested?” asked Jill, desperation creeping into her tone.

“He’s dead,” said Professor McGonagall. “The same night he attacked your parents, he attacked another family. The Longbottoms. They had a son, Neville. When he tried to kill Neville, something happened. He was vanquished and Neville Longbottom survived the killing curse. An impossible event.”

“Who was he?” asked Jill, realising that Professor McGonagall never said his name.

“We...do not speak his name,” she said, looking uncomfortable again.

“Why? He’s dead, isn’t he?” she asked.

“Yes, yes, we believe so,” said Professor McGonagall. “You must understand, he killed and terrorised our world for years. We were at war and those were dark times. His name still evokes fear in the hearts of people.” Jill stared at her incredulously, and finally Professor McGonagall sighed. “Lord Voldemort,” she said, and shuddered. “Do not ask me or anyone else to say it again.”

Jill nodded and sat in silence for a moment, trying to process it all. “Why didn’t he kill me?” she asked finally.

Professor McGonagall suppressed a shudder. “I think you ought to be grateful that he did not attempt anything of the sort,” she said, her eyes softening a little. “You were barely over a year old.”

“But he tried to kill Neville Longbottom,” Jill pointed out. 

“He did not succeed,” said Professor McGonagall, and the tone of her voice suggested that she would not say more on the subject.

“The attack on my aunt and uncle’s house, was it Vol-was it him too?” asked Jill.

“We are not certain, but we believe it to have been some of his followers, yes,” said Professor McGonagall. 

“So, they’re still out there? People who followed him?” asked Jill.

“No, not anymore,” said Professor McGonagall. “They are incarcerated now.”

Jill nodded slowly and then looked at her letter again. “So, where do we go to get these things?” she asked.

Professor McGonagall gave her a small smile. “Diagon Alley.”

~

Jill left Sister Marianne’s office in a daze, mulling over everything Professor McGonagall had told her. There were still so many questions that she had, but for now, she wanted to learn more before she tried to get those questions answered. Even though Professor McGonagall had been forthright in her answers, Jill had a natural distrust of all grown-ups, and unless she confirmed it with a book, she could not be certain of everything she had been told.

She returned to her room, and grabbed a light cardigan and her outdoor boots. Professor McGonagall was taking her to Diagon Alley to buy her things, and Jill was excited despite her natural cautiousness. There was a knock on her door, and Jill paused from tying her boots.

“Come in,” she said, surprised when Sister Marianne entered.

“Jillian, good, you’re dressed,” she said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her. “Professor McGonagall is waiting for you in the front foyer.”

“I’ll be right down,” said Jill, finishing up tying her boots.

“Yes, well, she is taking you into London to buy your things for you,” said Sister Marianne, and then hesitated slightly. “Jill, you don’t have to accept if you don’t want to.”

Jill looked at her in surprise. “Pardon?” she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“You have a genius level IQ and your qualifying marks were good enough to get you a full academic scholarship to Wellington,” said Sister Marianne. “That is an enormous privilege. We know nothing of this Academy besides your parents’ wish for you to attend it.”

“That is good enough for me, sister,” said Jill firmly. “Besides, you and I both know that there is more to it.”

Sister Marianne looked a little startled but nodded. “I do not claim to understand everything about you and...the world you are about to enter. All I know, is that I want you to choose what you want to do.”

Jill smiled a little. “Thank you, sister,” she said sincerely. “But this is what I want. Honest.”

Sister Marianne nodded. “Very well, then,” she said. “Off you go.”

Jill nodded and slung her satchel over her shoulder as she raced downstairs to where Professor McGonagall was waiting for her. “How are we getting there?” asked Jill, as they walked out of the orphanage together.

“We’ll use Muggle transportation today,” said Professor McGonagall. “It is only a short cab ride.”

She raised her hand and a black London cab came to a stop in front of them. Professor McGonagall opened the door and ushered Jill inside. “Charing Cross Road,” she said, getting in.

“Sure, ma’am,” said the cabbie.

Jill was quiet as the cab drove through London traffic. There was a bus she could take from the orphanage to Charing Cross road, and she was already making plans to visit Diagon Alley on her own in the coming days. 

The cab dropped them off in front of a decrepit-looking pub that said ‘The Leaky Cauldron’ on it in peeling letters. People walked past it without sparing it a second glance, and Jill guessed that it had to be invisible to non-magical people, or Muggles, as Professor McGonagall seemed to call them. 

“In here,” said Professor McGonagall, ushering Jill inside the pub. 

The interior of the pub was just as dingy as the outside, but it smelled warm and was full of people talking, laughing, eating and smoking. Jill took it all in with wide eyes, noting that no one paid them much mind, though a few people nodded to Professor McGonagall. 

“Get you anything, Professor McGonagall?” asked the toothless innkeeper when they reached the bar.

“No, thank you, Tom,” said Professor McGonagall politely. “Just passing through.”

Tom nodded and Professor McGonagall led Jill through the back door and into the alleyway behind the Leaky Cauldron. She drew out her wand once more and tapped the bricks in a certain order, which Jill memorised immediately. The bricks started spinning and slowly parted to form an archway that led into a bright, sunny alley lined with shops on either side.

“This is Diagon Alley,” said Professor McGonagall, walking through the archway.

Jill followed her, unable to keep the wonder from her face at the spectacular sight. She spied shops selling everything from robes, wands and books to cauldrons, telescopes and owls. There was an odd thrum in the air, and Jill recognised it as the same energy she felt when she was using her powers. Magic, she realised. It was magic.

She turned to Professor McGonagall and smiled politely. “Thank you, Professor,” she said. “I can take it from here.”

Professor McGonagall looked taken aback. “Surely, you’ll want my help…”

“I am used to doing my own shopping,” said Jill firmly but politely. “I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

“It will be no trouble,” began Professor McGonagall but then thought better of it. “Very well, if you say so. Visit Gringotts first. That’s the bank right down the street. You cannot miss it. Show the goblins your key and you will be able to withdraw money. You can also get it changed for Muggle money if you need.”

“Thank you,” said Jill once again.

Professor McGonagall nodded and then smiled a little before turning slightly on the spot and vanishing right in front of Jill.

“Cool,” said Jill, and set off towards Gringotts.

Sure enough, the snowy white building was easily distinguishable and Jill walked up the golden steps to reach the gilded double doors that opened up as she approached. Short creatures in robes walked by, and Jill realised that Professor McGonagall had called them goblins. 

She walked inside the building, and was amazed at the sight of hundreds of goblins sitting on teller machines, running transactions for various people. Some were counting money, others were answering questions, and there were a few leading people through the numerous doors leading out of the main banking room. Jill found the first free goblin that she saw and approached him cautiously.

“Yes?” asked the goblin impatiently.

“I want to access my trust account,” said Jill.

“Key,” snapped the goblin.

Jill took the key from her satchel and slid it over to the goblin. The goblin picked it up and examined it briefly. “Griphook!” he called out shortly, and another goblin ambled up to them. “Show the little miss to her vault.”

Griphook took the key and beckoned Jill to follow. Jill grabbed her satchel and set off behind him as he led her through one of the doors out into a mineshaft. A minecart came hurtling up in front of them and Griphook jumped in without much difficulty, and nodded at Jill to do the same. Jill leapt into the cart and the cart set off down the rails through the cold tunnels.

“How big is this place?” asked Jill.

“As big as it needs to be,” answered Griphook.

Jill raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask anymore questions until the cart came to a stop in front of vault 687. Griphook jumped out and grabbed a lantern from the wall as he approached the vault. Jill followed him and watched in fascination as he used her key to unlock the vault.

The lock turned easily and the door swung open with a hiss. Jill’s eyes took a moment to adjust, and her eyes went wide when she saw that the vault was filled to brim with gold, silver and bronze coins. She walked inside further and saw an entire wall full of jewellery boxes, laminated documents, and sealed scrolls.

“What is all this?” asked Jill.

“Deeds, heirlooms, property documents, gems,” listed Griphook in a bored voice.

“So anything that’s not a liquid asset,” murmured Jill. “And the money? How are they valued?”

“The gold ones are galleons, silver are sickles, bronze are knuts,” said Griphook. “Seventeen sickles to a galleon and twenty-three knuts to a sickle.”

“How many British pounds to a galleon?” asked Jill calculatingly.

“Five pounds to a galleon,” said Griphook.

“So, how much money is in this vault?” asked Jill.

Griphook pulled out a parchment from his robes and handed it to her. Jill took it and used the torchlight inside the vault to read it.

**The inheritance of Jillian Amaryllis Potter**

_Father: James Fleamont Potter (deceased: 1981)_  
Mother: Lillian Elizabeth Potter nee Evans (deceased: 1981)  
Godfather: Sirius Orion Black (deceased: 1980)

**Title**  
_Heiress of the Noble and Ancient House of Black_

**Vaults**

_Vault 3: Inactive (Black Family Vault)_ *  
*The proceeds have been added to Vault 687 as per the wishes of the last heir

_Vault 687: Active (Potter Family Vault)  
Liquid assets: 358, 675, 019 galleons 10 sickles 3 knuts_

The document went on to list several documents and other solid assets but Jill had stopped reading. She wasn’t just rich, she was _rich_.

She tucked the parchment into her satchel and nodded at Griphook in thanks. She carefully counted out five hundred galleons and put them into a featherlight bag that Griphook gave her. Once she was done, Griphook led her out of the vault and locked the door before giving her the key back. The cart ride back to the main foyer of the bank was as silent as the ride to the vault.

“I also want to change some of this for Muggle money,” said Jill, as they walked back into the foyer.

Griphook nodded and led her to a free goblin and muttered something in a harsh language that she didn’t understand. The other goblin turned to Jill. “How much?” he asked.

Jill counted out a hundred galleons and placed it in front of the goblin. The goblin carefully counted it again, before handing over 500 pounds to her in twenty pound notes.

“Thank you,” said Jill, carefully putting away the money in her bag. 

She left the bank with the sack full of money stuffed into her satchel, her mind preoccupied with the revelations that the visit to Gringotts had brought. The biggest one being that she’d had a godfather, who had died the same year that she was born, and whose title she had inherited. She wondered why he had named her as his heiress, rather than his own child, but deduced that he must have died without one.

She took a moment to sit down at Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour and eat a small sundae to gather her thoughts and go through her list to make a plan of how she was going to tackle her long shopping list. Once she was done, she gathered up her satchel and walked to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

Inside, she saw that someone else was already getting fitted. A plump witch with twinkling eyes smiled at Jill as she entered.

“Good afternoon, dear,” she greeted. “Hogwarts too?”

“Yes, please,” said Jill, smiling the sweet smile that melted hearts of all the adults.

“Come this way, my dear,” said the witch, that Jill presumed was Madam Malkin. “Got another young woman being fitted up right now.”

Jill stood up on the tall platform and glanced at the girl next to her, who had robes pinned to her body. She had long blonde hair that was in a braid and sharp blue eyes that looked curiously at Jill.

“Hello,” said the girl. “Starting this year at Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” said Jill. “I am Jill Potter.”

“Daphne Greengrass,” she introduced herself. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” said Jill.

Daphne surveyed her closely before speaking again. “Are you here on your own too?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Jill. “Why do you ask?”

“Then I would suggest buying a featherlight trunk before you continue shopping. Otherwise you would be lugging heavy bags all day,” she said, in a matter-of-fact voice.

“Where do I get one of those?” asked Jill, feeling slightly out of her depth, which was a feeling she didn’t like.

“There’s a shop just down that way,” said Daphne, pointing east. “Ask for the Elysian 319 model. It looks just like mine,” she added, indicating a mahogany trunk on the floor.

Jill nodded slowly and made a note to buy the trunk. “So, why are you on your own?” asked Jill casually.

“I could ask the same,” countered Daphne, but it was said with a small smile.

“Orphan,” said Jill shortly.

“Stepmother who can’t be bothered,” said Daphne. “My father works a lot and is frequently out of the country, and Odette doesn’t bother with my sister and I. So I usually do all the shopping.”

“Sounds tough,” said Jill. “Sister Marianne buys all our things at the orphanage that I live at, but we are allowed to go Christmas shopping.”

Daphne nodded. “Have you bought anything else on your list yet?” she asked.

“No, I started here,” said Jill.

“Do you want to shop together?” she asked.

“Sure,” said Jill, already liking the girl with the dry attitude.

“Great,” said Daphne, as Madam Malkin declared her done. She hopped down from the platform and waited until Jill was done with her fitting. Madam Malkin rang them both up, and they left the shop together.

“Come on,” said Daphne. “The trunk shop is just down here.”

Jill fell in step with Daphne as they dodged the crowd and finally reached a small shop tucked between an eatery and Gladrags Wizarding Wear, which Jill realised was a clothes shop. The interior of the trunk shop was dusty and filled to brim with trunks, suitcases, knapsacks and satchels of all sizes and styles. An elderly witch with neatly styled grey hair smiled at them when they walked in.

“Want another one for yourself, do you, dearie?” she asked Daphne.

“No, thank you, Hilda,” said Daphne politely, though Jill realised that she was using the same polite tone that Jill used around adults to get what she wanted. “My friend here wanted to buy an Elysian 319 and I said there would be no better place than here.”

“Oh, of course, of course,” said Hilda, peering at Jill. “Will your parents be buying it for you, dearie?”

“No, just me,” said Jill.

Hilda looked intensely curious but since the girls were looking at her expectantly, she smiled at them. “This way then,” she said, and Jill followed her to a small display of trunks. “We have mahogany, ash, birch, beech and cherry,” said Hilda, pointing at the different ones. “All of the Elysium 319 trunks are featherlight, and have rolling wheels and a handle so you don’t have to carry them. They have a unique lock that you can set, and an anti-theft charm.”

“I’ll take the cherry,” said Jill, admiring the dark glossy red trunk.

“Excellent choice,” said Hilda, picking up the trunk in question and bringing it back to the counter. “That will be thirty galleons then.”

Jill reached into her satchel and pulled out thirty gold coins and handed them to Hilda. “Thank you,” she said, popping the bags with her robes into her new trunk.

“Of course, dear,” said Hilda, as she waved Jill and Daphne from her shop. “Tell your friends.”

Back outside once again, Jill was looking at Gladrags next door with a contemplative look on her face.

“Everything okay?” asked Daphne, noticing that Jill’s attention was diverted.

“Yeah,” said Jill. “Just making plans for future visits.”

Daphne looked curious but didn’t ask. “We should get on then,” she said. “Shops will close in a few hours.”

“Alright,” agreed Jill easily and they headed towards Flourish and Blotts for their books.

While the clerk put together two sets of the first year textbooks, Jill wandered over to the ‘New to Wizarding World?’ section of the store and found a few books instructing new witches and wizards about the world they were entering. After some deliberation, she picked out two books ‘A Concise History of the Ministry of Magic’ and ‘Everything You Need to Know About the Wizarding World and How it Works’. 

While the clerk rang them up, Jill was astonished to see a large pile of a thick golden tome, that had a round-faced boy with blonde hair and pink cheeks waving from the cover.

“Ugh, this again,” muttered Daphne, as she glared at the book.

“Neville Longbottom: the Boy Who Lived,” read Jill. “An autobiography? Isn’t he the same age as us?”

Daphne snorted. “I forget that you haven’t been raised in the wizarding world,” she said. “The boy wonder loves the spotlight. The entire wizarding world worships him. Enough to let an eleven-year old boy write an autobiography that will no doubt sell millions of copies.”

“They have good reason to worship him, though huh?” asked Jill. “He vanquished Voldemort.”

Daphne shuddered at the name and hushed Jill. “Don’t say the name,” she said. “And besides, he was just a baby when it happened. People make it sound like he heroically jumped up from his crib and slaughtered the Dark Lord with his own baby fists.”

Jill choked back giggles as they paid for their books and packed them inside their respective trunks. She was tempted to stay and browse through more books, but Daphne told her about Owl Order, so she decided to pick up some catalogues instead. Their next stop was Eeylop’s Owl Emporium to get Jill’s owl, since Daphne was bringing her father’s old owl to Hogwarts.

“His name is Dundee, and he is as mad as a hatter,” complained Daphne as they walked through the rows of owl cages. “But Father was kind enough to give him to me, so I’m bringing him instead.”

Jill chose a snowy white owl, with beautiful amber eyes. She held off on naming her until she found an appropriate name, and the girls left the shop with the owl in her new golden cage.

“We should go to Scrivenshaft’s and the Apothecary next,” said Daphne, checking the list. “After that it’s the equipments shop and then wands are right next door.”

Jill nodded as they walked into Scrivenshaft’s which sold parchments and quills. They bought scrolls of parchment, quills and bottles of quick-drying inks in almost every colour. It only took a short while and they went to the Apothecary, which smelled terrible, but looked fascinating. The kindly shop assistant fixed up two standard beginner’s potions kits for the girls. The equipments shop was where the girls bought their cauldrons and telescopes before they finally reached Ollivander’s.

The small, dusty shop was filled from top to bottom with neat, rectangular boxes. There was a strange hush about the place, and even the confident Daphne looked a little solemn as they waited.

“Ah,” said a soft voice, making the girls jump. “Come in, come in. I was expecting you, Miss Potter. And you too, Miss Greengrass.”

A frail, elderly wizard with untidy grey hair stepped into the light, surveying the girls with large silver eyes. “I remember your father’s first wand, Miss Potter. Mahogany, designed for Transfiguration. Your mother, on the other hand, favoured a cherry wand. Excellent for Charms work.” Jill shifted uncomfortably as the man turned to Daphne. 

“And your parents, Miss Greengrass. They were childhood sweethearts. Both chose an ash wand, but your mother’s had a unicorn hair, while your father’s had dragon heartstring. Oh yes, I remember every wand I have ever sold.” He took a deep breath. “So, who wants to go first?”

Jill nodded at Daphne to go ahead. The man that Jill presumed was Ollivander, handed Daphne a wand. “Ash and phoenix feather, nine inches,” he said.

Daphne took it and gave it a wave but nothing happened. Ollivander snatched it out of her hands and immediately handed her another one. “Ash and unicorn hair, nine and a half inches.” Daphne waved it and the wand emitted bright blue sparks from the end.

“Excellent, excellent,” said Ollivander. “You are more like your mother, Miss Greengrass than you might realise. Let me wrap that up for you.”

Daphne handed the wand back in a daze and paid for the wand. Both Jill and Ollivander pretended not to notice the mistiness of her eyes.

“And now you, Miss Potter,” said Ollivander, and Jill stepped forward.

Unlike Daphne, Jill went through ten different wands, until Ollivander went to the backroom and came out with a wand wrapped in crinkly paper. “I crafted this one yesterday,” he said. “An odd combination and not one I use.”

Jill gave a small gasp as she saw the wand. Unlike all the wands she had seen before, this one was pure white. She automatically reached for it and picked it up. Bright silver and gold sparks shot out from the tip and then a shower of petals fell out of it.

“Oh, perfect!” Ollivander clapped. “Most unusual and very temperamental, but it chose you.”

“What is it?” asked Jill curiously, admiring the wand.

“The wood is from an old Aspen tree and the core is the hair of a newborn unicorn. Ten and three quarter inches,” he said.

“Thank you,” Jill said absently, still looking at her wand in fascination. “How much do I owe you?”

“Seven galleons,” said Ollivander and Jill paid him, before placing her wand carefully inside her satchel.

By the time they emerged outside, evening had fallen over Diagon Alley. Daphne turned to Jill with a small smile. “I should get going,” she said. “My little sister will be expecting me back for supper.”

“Of course,” said Jill. “Maybe I’ll see you on September 1st?”

“No maybe about it,” said Daphne firmly. “See you on the train.”

Jill smiled a genuine smile. “See you on the train,” she repeated and turned to leave.

“Oh, hang on,” said Daphne, turning back to her. She reached into her pockets and tore out a bit of parchment and scribbled something down on it. “This is my address. Just put it on the envelope and your owl will find me,” she said. “Write to me with any questions you might have. I suspect that there are quite a few.”

“You have no idea,” said Jill, pocketing the address with a grin. “Goodbye, Daphne. Thank you for all your help.”

The girls parted ways and Jill went back into Muggle London. She must have looked an odd sight with a satchel around her neck, dragging a trunk behind her and carrying an owl cage under her arm. She hailed a cab right outside the Muggle side of the Leaky Cauldron, and did her best not to fall asleep due to sheer exhaustion during the short cab ride.

The cab ride dropped her off right in front of the orphanage, and Jill decided to forgo dinner in favour of retiring to her room. Her brief exhaustion had passed, and she started the long process of unpacking her new things and making her owl comfortable.

It had been a tumultuous day, but for the first time in her life, Jill felt like she had found her place in the world.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of Jill’s summer was spent poring over her schoolbooks. Thanks to her incredible memory and thirst of knowledge, she had gone through her set textbooks within the week, prompting her to make a few more visits to Flourish and Blotts. Sister Marianne let her keep her owl (whom Jill had decided to name Hedwig) in her room because it scared the other girls when they returned from their trip to the coast. Jill didn’t mind the company, and Hedwig loved being able to fly off every night to go hunting for rodents.

Of course, Jill also had Daphne’s letters to keep her company. Her first impression of Daphne Greengrass had not been wrong at all. She was much like Jill, having been raised by a busy father and an uncaring stepmother. Jill got the feeling that Daphne had learned to be independent in much the same way as Jill herself. She also had a dry, sarcastic sense of humour that Jill liked. Jill would go as far as to say that Daphne was the first friend she had ever made.

Jill and Daphne wrote to each other frequently, discussing everything from Hogwarts to the wizarding world in general. Daphne was a pureblood, Jill had learned, and her mother had died in a potions lab accident when Daphne had been seven. Jill would have shared the story about her parents, but Daphne had apparently known all about it. In the wizarding world, the deaths of the Potters and the Longbottoms on the same night, and the miraculous survival of the Boy-Who-Lived were well-known events. Jill honestly had no idea how to feel about it, but in the few weeks that she had bought a subscription to the wizarding newspaper ‘The Daily Prophet’, she had learned quite a bit about Neville Longbottom.

After the death of his parents, Neville had been raised by his paternal grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, who had made sure that the wizarding world understood that her grandson had been victorious over the darkest wizard in history. As a result, Neville Longbottom had grown up a spoilt little brat, as Daphne described, and after reading ‘Longbottom Watch’ which was a section of the Daily Prophet dedicated solely to cataloguing the Boy-Who-Lived’s activities every day, Jill had to agree. Despite the obvious attempt at making that section pander to the adoring masses, Jill could read between the lines, and it appeared that Neville Longbottom was a selfish, childish boy, with an entire world full of admirers.

Jill had no doubt that she would see him at Hogwarts soon enough, but decided to keep her distance from him. She hoped that she would be sorted into the same house as Daphne, who was certain that she would be a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin, because of her parents. Jill’s parents were Gryffindors, but Jill didn’t think she would be one. If _Hogwarts, A History_ was to be believed, Gryffindor favoured the brave and chivalrous. Jill felt more like a Ravenclaw or a Slytherin, and Daphne had been quick to point out that they would likely end up in Slytherin due to their blood status.

Blood was an enormous matter in the wizarding world, and Jill learned that her father and godfather had both been purebloods, while her mother would be considered a Muggleborn. Her godfather’s family had been a Noble and Most Ancient House, and Jill hadn’t missed the reverent way Daphne had spoken about it. Even the Potter family was one of the wealthiest pureblood families in the wizarding world.

Daphne had also told her that Sirius Black, Jill’s godfather, had died fighting a horde of Death Eaters, only a few months after Jill had been born. The man had killed a dozen Death Eaters before finally perishing, and been posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin First Class. After his death, the title of the Black family had fallen to Jill, since he’d only had a younger brother who had predeceased him.

When September 1st finally arrived, Jill was up at the crack of dawn. Her trunk had been packed the night before and Hedwig had been locked securely in her cage. Jill wore a modest black skirt and green blouse, paired with black tights and a thin black cardigan. Her raven hair was up in a ponytail, with her bangs falling over her forehead. She checked her watch which she had purchased for her eleventh birthday because she actually had her own money to spend, and saw that it was nearly nine. She was too nervous to eat breakfast, so she carried her trunk and Hedwig’s cage downstairs where Sister Marianne was waiting to see her to King’s Cross Station.

Jill wondered how much Sister Marianne really knew about Jill’s new school. Professor McGonagall had spoken to her the day she had come to see Jill, but Jill had not been privy to their conversation. Whatever it was, Sister Marianne had not commented on the owl, or the fact that Jill seemed to have spellbooks in her room.

“Have you tidied your room up, young lady?” asked Sister Marianne, when Jill went downstairs.

“Yes, sister,” said Jill.

“You better have,” said Sister Marianne sternly. “You won’t be back until summer, and the last thing you need after opening your room is to tidy up a year old mess.”

“I know, sister,” said Jill.

Sister Marianne nodded and the two waited in silence for the cab that the Sister had ordered. When the cab finally pulled up, she opened the boot and placed her trunk inside it with Sister Marianne’s help. Once the trunk was secure, Jill clambered into the backseat with Hedwig’s cage on her lap as Sister Marianne sat next to her. They were silent as they drove through the bustling London morning to Kings Cross Station, with only Sister Marianne speaking to the cabbie occasionally. It was a short journey later that their cab pulled near the station. Sister Marianne fetched a trolley for Jill, and helped Jill place her trunk and Hedwig’s cage on it.

“Well then,” said Sister Marianne. “It’s almost ten thirty. You’d better head over to your platform now.”

Jill nodded. “Thank you for seeing me off, sister,” she said. She had truly been surprised by the gesture, and hadn’t expected it in the least.

Sister Marianne nodded with a small smile. “Be careful, Jillian,” she said. “And study hard.”

“I will, I promise,” said Jill, even more surprised by the rare display of emotion from the usually strict woman.

“Write to me with the date of your return. I’ll have someone drive up if I can’t be here myself to fetch you,” she said. “God bless you, child.”

“Thank you, sister,” said Jill again. “Goodbye.”

Sister Marianne nodded and Jill walked away from her, pulling out her ticket as she did. Her stomach dropped when she read the platform number on the ticket. Platform 9 ¾ sounded like someone’s idea of a joke. Jill wondered how she had never thought to look at the ticket or ask Daphne how to get onto the platform. Her heart thudding in her chest, she walked between platforms nine and ten, trying to see if there was a magical entrance somewhere.

Her search yielded nothing, and there were only fifteen more minutes before the train would leave, and Jill was beginning to feel a little frantic. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm herself. When she opened her eyes, she saw an amused pair of startling blue eyes staring at her.

“Do you want to move out of my way?” the dark-skinned boy asked, an arrogant smile playing on his handsome face.

Jill was about to move when she noticed an owl on his trolley. “Hogwarts?” she asked, hoping that her panic didn’t show on her face.

“Obviously,” he said. “The platform is that way.”

Jill moved out of his way and nodded at him. “After you then,” she said.

He smirked at her and walked straight towards the ticket barrier between platforms nine and ten. Jill watched with wide eyes as he disappeared a moment later. Heartened, Jill followed him and passed through the barrier with ease, emerging out onto Platform 9 ¾ where the Hogwarts Express was waiting. She glanced around to see the boy who had helped her, but he had been lost in the crowd. Making a note to thank him if she saw him at Hogwarts, Jill wheeled her trolley along the platform until she heard her name being called. She turned around and saw Daphne waving from the door of a carriage.

“Daphne!” greeted Jill enthusiastically.

Daphne jumped out and picked up Hedwig’s cage. “Come on, I saved us a carriage,” she said.

Jill took her trunk off the trolley and took it to the carriage where Daphne’s trunk and owl were already waiting. The barn owl in the cage hooted at Hedwig, who stared balefully at him.

“Eh, they’ll get along,” said Daphne, as Jill stuffed her trunk under the seat. “Dundee is terrible but he worms his way into your heart.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Jill. “Dunno if Hedwig will.”

“You didn’t have any trouble with the platform, did you?” asked Daphne. “I realised that I never told you about it.”

“It was alright,” said Jill. “I had some help.”

“Good to know,” said Daphne, checking her watch just as the whistle sounded. 

There was a mad rush for the doors as the last of the students clambered onto the train, and waves and laughter and tears could be heard as goodbyes were said between families. Jill stared at the display with raised eyebrows, a tiny part in the back of her mind wishing deeply that she had such a connection with someone.

“And off we go,” said Daphne, appearing unconcerned.

Jill stamped out her wistful thoughts and grinned at her as the train jolted and started moving. It gathered speed a moment later, and they looked out of the window to see London’s scenery rushing past them.

“So,” said Daphne, after a while. “You nervous about the sorting?”

Jill shrugged. “I don’t really mind, to be honest,” she said. “Not too fussed about it.”

“That’s the right attitude,” nodded Daphne. “So, tell us about the new books you got.”

And just like that, they slipped into familiar conversations about books, history and various other things that they’d always talked about in their letters. Around midday, the door to their compartment opened and a middle-aged witch wheeling a trolley smiled at them.

“Anything from the trolley, dears?” she asked.

Jill, who hadn’t had any breakfast, immediately decided to buy some of everything to share. Daphne insisted on buying pasties and pumpkin juice for them, and the two girls sat back in the compartment, eating sweets to their hearts’ content.

Nobody came to bother them throughout the journey and when it got darker, they changed out of their clothes and into the school uniform. Jill tied and untied her ponytail, feeling nervous despite her earlier words. Daphne looked a little pale too, but confident nonetheless.

Jill finally decided to leave her shoulder-length hair down as the train began to slow down and eventually came down to a stop. The two girls left the compartment together and jumped down onto the platform.

A tall, giant of a man with bushy black hair and beard was looming above everyone at the very end of the platform. “First years, over here,” he called. “First years.”

Jill and Daphne joined the crowd of first years as they walked down from the platform towards the giant. “That’s Hagrid,” muttered Daphne to Jill. “I think he’s the groundskeeper or something.”

Hagrid led the first years down to the docks where numerous boats were waiting for them.

“Four to a boat,” said Hagrid, and Jill and Daphne got into an empty boat and were followed in by a girl with bushy brown hair, and a sandy-haired boy.

“AND FORWARD!” roared Hagrid.

The boats began to glide across the lake. They turned a corner and Jill’s eyes went wide when she got the first glimpse of Hogwarts. It was a magnificent castle set atop a high cliff. Lights shone from every window and from the tall towers. The girls smiled widely when they saw it. The boats reached the shore and they were all quick to clamber out.

`Hagrid led them up to the castle and knocked on the gigantic doors.

The doors were opened by a familiar, stern-looking witch in emerald green robes.

“The first years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” nodded Professor McGonagall. “Follow me,” she said to the first years. Jill stayed in line behind Daphne as they followed.

Professor McGonagall led them to a chamber next to the Entrance Hall. “Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said. “I’m Professor McGonagall, the deputy Headmistress. Shortly, you’ll be led to the Great Hall where you will be sorted into one of the four houses. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has produced magnificent witches and wizards. I hope you will be a credit to whichever house you have the honour of being sorted into,” she said, peering at them. She caught Jill’s eyes and gave the tiniest of nods.

Jill smiled back politely. She didn’t particularly care where she was sorted, as long as it was with Daphne.

“While at Hogwarts, your house will be like your family. You will make friends that will stay with you for the rest of your lives. Good behaviour and merit earns house points, and rule-breaking leads to loss of points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points wins the House Cup. The Ceremony will begin shortly. Wait here,” said Professor McGonagall briskly and walked off.

“She seems nice,” murmured Daphne, and Jill chuckled. Daphne nudged Jill and nodded towards the other end of the crowd where a round-faced blond boy was holding court. “He’s already living it up. Our precious Boy-Who-Lived.”

“Whatever house he is in, I hope I’m not in it,” whispered Jill.

She heard an amused cough behind her and she whirled around to see the boy who had helped her back at Kings Cross. She opened her mouth to say something but Professor McGonagall returned and looked at them. “We are ready for you,” she said. “Follow me.”

The first years got in line and followed Professor McGonagall to the Great Hall. Jill felt like she was coming home and warmth flooded through her with every step. The Great Hall had four long tables, which she guessed were for each of the houses. Candles hung in the air and the ceiling of the Hall was entirely transparent, with the view of the night sky. She allowed a small smile to grace her face as they all gathered near the front of the High Table where the teachers were sitting.

There was a three-legged stool in front of them with a frayed black hat on it. A small moment of silence followed and then the Hat burst into song.

_Oh you may not think me pretty,_  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be. 

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends. 

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap! 

Everyone burst into applause and the Hat bowed to each table before going still.

“When I call your name, come up to the front,” said Professor McGonagall, reading from a scroll. “Abbott, Hannah!”

A blonde haired girl ambled to the front and sat down on the stool. The Hat fell over her head and a moment later, the brim of the Hat opened —“HUFFLEPUFF!”

She took off the hat and went off to the Hufflepuff table. “Bones, Susan!” The Hat took slightly longer before it shouted ‘HUFFLEPUFF.’

“Boot, Terry!”

A tall boy with curly brown hair walked up and was the first new Ravenclaw. The table to the immediate left burst into applause as Terry joined them.

‘Brocklehurst, Mandy’ also went to Ravenclaw but Lavender Brown became the first new Gryffindor and the table at the other end burst into loud cheering. ‘Bulstrode, Millicent’ went to Slytherin, and Cornfoot, Stephen and Corner, Michael both went to Ravenclaw.

Jill realised that the sorting was going on alphabetically, and waited patiently for her turn. She watched with mild interest as the Hat called for Granger, Hermione, who was the bushy haired girl that had ridden the boat with them.

The Hat took nearly a minute with her before shouting ‘GRYFFINDOR!’ She looked a little stunned as she walked over to the Gryffindor table who were all cheering.

Jill turned her attention back to the Sorting because it was Daphne’s turn. Daphne was the very picture of an ice princess as she glided to the front when her name was called. She sat down on the stool and put on the Hat. She was only on the stool for a few seconds when it shouted ‘SLYTHERIN’. She took off the Hat in relief and went to the Slytherin table. As soon as she was seated, she shot a smile at Jill.

The sorting went on, and Jill jumped to full attention when the Hat called for Neville Longbottom. The Hall was buzzing with excitement as the Boy-Who-Lived waved at them before sitting down on the stool. The Hat fell over his eyes, and only a moment later, it shouted -- ‘GRYFFINDOR!’

The Gryffindor table burst into loud cheering and applause, and people were getting quite rambunctious as Neville walked over to the table. It took a stern look from Professor McGonagall to silence the table.

The sorting continued, and Professor McGonagall called for ‘Malfoy, Draco.’ He was a boy with a pointed face and silver hair, and a swagger in his steps as he walked up to the Hat. The Hat wasted no time, and he was sorted into Slytherin almost immediately. He glared at the Gryffindor table as he walked away, where a pair of redhaired twins were hissing at him.

The sorting moved on and Jill jumped when her own name was called. “Potter, Jillian!”

She walked forward and sat down on the stool. The Hat fell over her eyes and she heard a voice in her head. “Hmm,” said the voice. “Interesting one, aren’t you? And ooh, look at that. Brilliant mind, thirst for knowledge, intelligence. You, my girl, would have been adored by Rowena. But there is more. Oh, so much more than just that thirst for knowledge. SLYTHERIN!”

Jill smiled as she took off the Hat and went to the Slytherin table. A few people were applauding politely, but what she received the most were curious and interested looks as she slipped into a seat next to Daphne.

Only a few people were left to be sorted, and Jill noted that the boy from this morning was one of them. She still didn’t know his name, and she waited patiently as Weasley, Ronald went to Gryffindor.

“Zabini, Blaise!” called Professor McGonagall, and Jill watched with interest as the boy walked up and placed the Hat on his head.

“SLYTHERIN!” shouted the Hat.

The Slytherin table cheered for their final addition and as he took the seat opposite hers, Blaise Zabini caught Jill’s eyes and winked. Jill felt herself blush slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Daphne, but before she could ask, the elderly wizard at the centre of the High Table stood up. He had long silver hair and beard, and he was wearing resplendent purple robes.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of the school,” he beamed. “I would like to say a few words: Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment and Tweak. Thank you!”

He sat down and people applauded again. Jill and Daphne’s eyes met for the briefest moment but otherwise remained at the table. Food appeared and Jill promptly forgot the odd address, and served herself some roast chicken, vegetables and potato chips. It was delicious.

The food at St. Jude wasn’t terrible but it was rather bland because the cook thought it was un-English to add any flavour apart from salt and pepper. The food at Hogwarts was leagues ahead in comparison.

The two girls kept mostly quiet, focusing on eating. Conversations around the Slytherin table were muted and hushed. Jill noticed a few people giving her half-confused and half-curious looks. Clearly, the Potter girl had not been expected to be in Slytherin.

Eventually, the food cleared and dessert appeared. Jill ate her ice cream and listened to the conversations around her. Draco Malfoy was talking about his father, while Pansy Parkinson and Daisy Moon were hanging onto his every word.

Blaise Zabini was quiet, though he kept shooting slightly amused looks at Jill every time their eyes met. Jill had a thousand questions about him, but she didn’t think she wanted to talk to him when everyone was still around.

Dumbledore stood up again when the dessert cleared. “Now that we have enjoyed the delicious feast, it’s time for yearly announcements.” There was a pair of groans from the Gryffindor table that Dumbledore seemed to ignore. “The Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to everyone. And this year, as is the third floor corridor on the right hand side, unless one wishes to die a painful and horrible death.” 

Jill’s ears pricked up at that, and she saw confused looks on most people’s faces which let her know that it was an unusual announcement. 

“Magic is banned in the corridors,” continued Dumbledore. “Quidditch tryouts will be held in the third week. Contact your House Captain or Madame Hooch for more information. And this year, we have an old favourite returning. Please welcome Professor Slughorn, who is back from retirement, as your Potions Master and the Head of Slytherin.”

There was raucous applause, particularly from the Slytherin table as the portly, greying wizard waved. Even the other three houses seemed happy to have him back, making Jill wonder who had been teaching in his absence.

The applause died down, and Dumbledore beamed at the students. “And now, let us sing the school song,” he said.

Jill personally thought the song was a bad idea since everyone was singing in their own tunes. But Dumbledore seemed pleased and clapped loudly when they were done. “Off to bed with you!” he said. “Chop, chop!”

“First years, follow me,” a tall brunette said. She had a gleaming badge on her robes that said she was a prefect.

Daphne and Jill fell into step with other Slytherin first years as the prefect led them towards the dungeon. Jill tried to memorise the exact path so that navigation wouldn’t be a trouble. They reached a green-lit corridor that made them realise that they were underneath the Black Lake.

“Password?” the portrait asked.

“Ceres,” the prefect said and the door swung open.

The common room was cosy and comfortable with green and silver decorations everywhere. “This is the Slytherin common room,” the prefect said. “Sit down!”

The first years exchanged looks but sat down in a group near the fireplace. The prefect’s eyes swept over them. “I am Vera Lancaster, the fifth year prefect,” she looked to her right and pointed at a tall, dark-haired boy. “This is Hector Runcorn, the other fifth year prefect.”

“First off, congratulations on being sorted into Slytherin,” said Hector. “It is the house of the cunning and the ambitious and has housed wizards such as Merlin. It goes without saying that we have a reputation to uphold. We have won the House Cup for the past six years and we will keep doing so. Anyone found to be jeopardising that, will be dealt with by us. And we don’t take kindly to tomfoolery that costs points for the House.”

“What that means is stick with your own and don’t cause trouble,” said Vera. “And now for dorms. You lot are on the fourth floor down. Boys on the right and girls on the left. Hop to it.”

The students filed into the door leading to the dorms. On the fourth floor down, they reached a split in the path and Jill followed Daphne to the left. The girls’ dormitory had six beds in a semi-circular formation. Jill found her trunk at a bed near one end of the room, with Daphne next to her. Their luggage was already waiting for them.

“This is brilliant,” said Jill.

“I agree,” said Daphne. “We should unpack before we turn in for the night.”

Jill nodded and the girls started unpacking their trunks. Clothes, both wizarding and Muggle, were folded up in the dressers near their beds. When Jill had finally undressed for the night, Daphne looked at Jill curiously.

“So, what’s the story with you and Zabini?” she asked. At Jill’s surprised look, she rolled her eyes. “You two kept exchanging looks all throughout dinner.”

“There is no story,” said Jill. “Not really. He just helped me find the platform, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh,” said Daphne, like she didn’t fully believe her. “Alright then, we should turn in. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” said Jill.

~

Even with their late unpacking, Jill and Daphne were up quite early in the morning. The two girls were already ready to head out by the time the rest of the girls in their dorms had even woken up properly. They had packed their satchels with parchments and quills only, since their timetables would be given to them at breakfast.

Sure enough, Professor Slughorn started handing out their timetables as they were finishing up breakfast. The wizard practically beamed at Jill and Daphne as he gave them their timetable.

“What was all that about?” asked Jill quietly as she and Daphne went back to their dorm to pack their books.

“Slughorn is a bit of a collector, from what I understand,” said Daphne. “He collects prized students. Has a club and everything.”

“But he doesn’t even know us yet,” said Jill, confused.

“He must have known someone from your family,” they heard and whipped their head around to see Blaise Zabini who fell into step with them.

Jill and Daphne exchanged slightly confused looks, but didn’t object. “My mother was a member,” said Daphne. “She was a Potions prodigy.”

“Makes sense,” shrugged Blaise, as they went to their respective dorms and met back up a few minutes later to walk to Charms together. 

Most of the Ravenclaws were already there, so the three of them found a place right at the front. Jill ended up in the middle, with Daphne and Blaise on either side of her. She had no idea why Blaise had decided to join them, but he seemed nice enough, so she didn’t particularly mind.

Professor Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw, taught Charms. He was tiny and extremely enthusiastic. After taking the roll, he asked them questions about the first chapter of their textbook. Jill was surprised at how many students from both houses answered questions correctly. She counted at least thirty points gained between the two houses. Flitwick was delighted.

He then got them started on theory of wand movements and made them take notes. By the end of the lesson, Jill felt like she had found one of her favourite subjects.

Transfiguration was a difficult subject, as Jill had deduced during the summer when she’d read the book, but she was positive that she was going to enjoy it.

Unfortunately, the class was with Gryffindor, which brought Jill back to Longbottom. She had no idea why she disliked the boy so much without ever having even met him properly, but she just did. She thought that it had something to do with how he enjoyed his fame that had been brought to him at the cost of his parents.

Professor McGonagall wasn’t in class yet when Jill, Daphne and Blaise sat down in the Transfiguration classroom, and they had the misfortune to be in the row directly behind the Boy-Who-Lived and his posse. Jill only recognised the redhead Weasley boy among them, though there did appear to also be a sandy-haired Irishman, and a pair of giggly girls. One of those girls turned around and looked at the Slytherins as they sat down, before whispering something to the other girl who also turned around and giggled at Blaise.

Blaise scowled and ignored them, his face the very mask of pure arrogance. Their giggling alerted Longbottom, and he turned around as well. When he saw Jill, he raised his eyebrows.

“You’re Potter, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Jill shortly, as people around them quieted down to listen.

“Really didn’t expect you to end up being a Slytherin,” said Longbottom. “But, that’s not important.” He glanced at Daphne and Blaise on either side of her before looking back at Jill. “You don’t have to be around them if you don’t want to be. You can join us.” He held out a pudgy hand for her to shake.

Jill looked at the hand and then up at him. “Thank you, but I am perfectly capable of deciding who I want to be around,” she said clearly.

Longbottom’s face went bright red as most of the Gryffindors gasped at the outright rejection of the Boy-Who-Lived, while the Slytherins looked fascinated.

Longbottom shook himself a little and smirked nastily. “Pity you are not smart enough to know to pick the right side, Potter,” he said, withdrawing his hand. “Have fun in the dungeons.”

Jill ignored him, and fortunately, Professor McGonagall chose that moment to march into the classroom. She started by lecturing them about Transfiguration and what it involved before going around the class and asking questions. Like Charms, the Slytherins were once again adept at answering questions but unlike Ravenclaw, the Gryffindors were grossly underprepared. Jill was amused to find out that Longbottom’s neck turned redder with every point that Slytherin gained.

Jill liked both the subject and the teacher immensely. Professor McGonagall was strict, fair and praised good work. When Jill turned her matchstick pointy and silver towards the end of the lesson, she awarded her fifteen points and a small smile. The only other one who came close was Hermione Granger, the bushy-haired Gryffindor seated right at the front.

At the end of the lesson, Professor McGonagall asked Jill and Hermione to stay behind and gave them both a Chocolate Frog each for their good work. Hermione looked absurdly pleased and was bright pink as she thanked Professor McGonagall and left. Professor McGonagall told Jill that she had her father’s talent at Transfiguration. Jill was pleased and silently vowed to work hard in all of her classes. 

At lunch, the Great Hall was buzzing with the news of the first interaction between Potter and Longbottom. Jill received several hostile looks from all three tables, but the Slytherin table was positively beaming at her as she sat down.

“Good job on pissing off three-quarters of the school,” said Blaise with a smirk as he cut up his steak.

Jill scowled at him and took a drink of water. “Didn’t realise that telling Longbottom to leave me alone meant a declaration of war,” she said sarcastically.

“They’ll get over it,” said Daphne comfortingly. “His ego is bruised and it’ll heal in time.”

“Gryffindor and Slytherin don’t get along, young Potter,” butted in Jason Whitman, the sixth year prefect. “Your loyalty to the House is noted though.”

Jill looked at people around him nodding along at his words and shrugged. She caught the eye of Draco Malfoy, who hadn’t really associated himself with her before. When lunch was over and the first year Slytherins had to go to Astronomy, Malfoy walked up to them.

“Potter,” he said. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. No matter what, I know where your blood comes from and I’m not impressed.”

Jill assessed him with narrowed eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry to hear that, Malfoy, considering it is my life’s goal to impress you,” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words. She leaned in a little bit. “Speak of my blood again, and you’ll find yours outside your body.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Blaise turn to hide his smirk as Malfoy went pink. “Stick with your own, Potter,” he said and stalked off with Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

“What a truly horrible person,” said Jill. 

“You can bring him to heel if you want, you know,” said Daphne. Jill gave her a curious look. “His mother’s a Black. And wasn’t one of your ancestors a Black too? You’re related to him by blood and magic, and as the head of the family, you can yank his leash.”

“I’m sorry I don’t think I heard anything beyond that git being related to me,” said Jill, making a disgusted face.

Blaise laughed outright as Daphne shook her head fondly. 

“Besides, why would he even come and talk to me? Somehow I don’t think he was sticking up for Longbottom,” said Jill.

“He was establishing dominance,” said Blaise. “There is an uncontested prince of Slytherin in each generation. Malfoy thought he had it in the bag until you came along.”

“I’m the Slytherin prince?” asked Jill, amused.

“You’re a good contender for it,” corrected Daphne. “The Prince is chosen by our peers. Or by magic.”

“Magic?” asked Jill.

“Yeah, but that hasn’t happened for over fifty years,” said Daphne. “They’ve had other Slytherin ‘Princes’ but they were based on how much money they had, how much power they wielded and what kind of blood they had.”

“You’re richer than Malfoy,” said Blaise. “Your title holds more water. Your blood might not be what’s expected but no one can deny that your mother was a talented witch of her time. And the fact that you just blew off Longbottom tells the rest of the house that you won’t kowtow to the Light. Trust me, you have no competition when it comes to being the prince of the house.”

“What the hell do I do about that?” asked Jill, raising her eyebrows as her amusement faded.

“I think we’ll find out soon,” said Daphne. 

Jill nodded absently, her mind whirling with the day’s events. Astronomy was dull. Professor Sinistra was a good enough teacher but the subject itself held no interest for Jill.

Herbology turned out to be fun but yet again it was just a lot of dirty work. Professor Sprout was cheery and helpful and protected her plants fiercely.

At the end of their first day, Daphne, Blaise and Jill sat at a table near the window in the library and worked through their pile of homework. All of them were intensely competitive by nature and having a mind equal to theirs to compete meant that they were working hard. They did have frequent interruptions in the form of students pausing near their table to stare at Jill. The three of them decided to keep ignoring it, a task which was not very easy to accomplish.

When they returned to the Slytherin common room just before curfew, they saw that the common room was full. It went silent when Jill walked in. Without a word, Blaise and Daphne took her books and bag and stepped slightly away.

Vera stood up and walked up to Jill. “Jillian Potter,” she said clearly. “Prove your worth.”

With a sweep of Vera’s wand, the common room seemed to expand and a space was cleared out in front of Jill. To her surprise, the Bloody Baron floated out of the floor and considered Jill over the top of his nose.

“Wait!” shouted a voice from the crowd. “I contest her right to this honour. She’s a half blood.”

Eyes flashing, Jill turned to glare at Malfoy. The Bloody Baron turned his gaze on Malfoy and then sniffed slightly, clearly dismissing him. Malfoy went bright pink with anger.

The Blood Baron raised his arm towards Jill and touched her forehead. It was an unpleasant sensation, like being doused in ice cold water, but to everyone watching, it seemed like silver ribbons were erupting from the place where the ghost had made contact with Jill’s head. The shimmering ribbons surrounded Jill’s form and a small glow started over her heart. For Jill, the cold passed and intense warmth started building in her chest.

She closed her eyes and opened them, and the ribbons around her had turned to shimmering silver snakes. Jill opened her mouth, and melodic hissing sounds escaped her mouth. The snakes started shimmering brighter and the light enveloped Jill brightly enough to make everyone look away. When they looked back, they saw Jill standing in front of the Bloody Baron, apparently unharmed but looking slightly dazed.

“It didn’t work,” said Malfoy finally, sounding gleeful. 

In the next moment, the Bloody Baron sank into a deep bow in front of Jill. “It’s an honour, Lady Peverell.”

He stood back up and vanished. Silence hung in the air, until Vera stepped up once more. “The magic has accepted her,” she said, her voice a little bit hoarse as if from shock. 

“The House has too,” added Jason, as people started nodding quickly.

“I haven’t,” interrupted Malfoy.

“Then you’d better start,” said Jason, shooting him a glare. “Need I remind you that magic has chosen our Prince for the first time in half a century? Or have you forgotten your history lessons, Malfoy?”

“We don’t know if it worked,” said Malfoy. “My father was the Prince and his ceremony makes no mention of ribbons and snakes or anything like what happened today.”

“Idiot boy,” snapped Hector Runcorn. “The ceremony that chose your father was the House vote. This was more than that. Didn’t you hear what the Bloody Baron called her? She’s Lady Peverell.”

Malfoy went slightly pale for a moment, before shaking his head. “She’s a half-blood. And a girl, at that. She can’t be the prince.”

“Lady Peverell,” said Vera, turning to Jill. “How do you wish to deal with this imbecile?”

All eyes turned to Jill, and instinctively, she said, “ _Toujours pur_.”

There were a few gasps, and Jill swore she heard Blaise chuckle, as an ugly grimace appeared on Malfoy’s face. Without uttering a single word, he stalked off towards the dorms, Crabbe and Goyle ambling after him.

“Good riddance,” muttered Daphne.

Vera smirked. “Indeed,” she said and turned to Jill. “I assume you will be tired after that. I apologise but we were unprepared for a magical acceptance. Do you want me to show you to your quarters?”

“My quarters?” asked Jill, slightly stunned.

“This way, Lady Peverell,” said Vera, nodding towards the portrait of Merlin that hung in the common room. It was a large portrait extending from the floor to the ceiling and covering nearly half the wall. Vera placed a hand on it and looked at Jill.

“Only you can enter,” she said.

Jill stepped towards it and touched it. To her surprise, her hand passed right through. She glanced back to see the rest of the house and her friends watching in fascination as she stepped inside.

Instantly, she found herself inside a wide sitting room, not unlike the Slytherin common room. The hardwood floors were covered by a plush forest green carpet. There was a large fireplace in the corner with blazing fire in it. Comfortable sofas and armchairs were arranged near the fireplace and an ornate desk was set up near the wide glass window looking into the depths of the Black Lake.

There were three doors leading to different parts, and Jill discovered the one on the left leading to a small kitchen and dining area, while the one next to it appeared to be an empty training room. The final door led into a bedroom. A large four-poster bed with silver sheets and green hangings dominated the majority of the room. There was a large walk-in wardrobe and Jill was surprised to find her clothes were already neatly arranged inside. The wardrobe led into a bathroom that was almost as big as the room, with marble floors, a big shower, a sunken bath, and a washbasin and toilet.

When she walked back out into the living room, she was surprised to see a tiny creature waiting for her. She had never seen one of them in person before but she remembered the picture from a book. It was a house elf.

When it saw Jill, it snapped to attention and bowed deeply. “Prince Potter,” said the house elf. “I is Spritzy.”

“Hello, Spritzy,” said Jill carefully. “Are you the elf for the Prince’s position?”

Spritzy nodded. “Spritzy is loyal to Prince Potter,” she said.

“What about the other Princes?” asked Jill.

“Each Prince be having their own elf, mistress,” said Spritzy. “Spritzy is loyal to no one but Prince Potter.”

“Okay,” said Jill. “Good to know.”

“Will mistress be wanting the Prince letter?” asked Spritzy. 

“Sure,” said Jill uncertainly. “Bring it here while I deal with something.”

Spritzy vanished with a crack, and Jill walked back out through the portrait. People were still around but they went silent when they saw Jill emerge. 

“Is everything alright, Lady Peverell?” asked Vera.

“Yes,” said Jill. “I just wanted to let you all know that I am honoured and in the coming days, we will be having several conversations, I expect. But tonight, I’m really tired, so you must excuse me while I retire.”

“Of course,” nodded Jason. “You heard her. Clear off. We’ve got plenty of time to sort through stuff.”

“Thank you,” said Jill. She walked up to Daphne and Blaise and gathered her books and bag. “I’ll see you both in the morning.”

“Right,” said Blaise. “And well done, Jill.”

“Yeah,” nodded Daphne. “You did really well.”

Jill smiled at them appreciatively and went back inside her quarters. Spritzy was waiting for her and she immediately took her books and bag away.

“The letter, mistress,” said Spritzy, nodding at a thick envelope sitting on the table next to the comfortable armchair by the fire. There was also a fresh pot of tea and some chocolate biscuits in a tray next to it.

She sank into the chair, groaning in relief as Spritzy poured her some tea. Jill opened the envelope and pulled out the yellowed parchment from it.

_My Prince,_

_I hope you realise the full extent of this honour. I do not choose lightly, and you are a choice made by magic’s consideration. Do not let me down._

_You may have heard tale of what your new mantle is, or what it means, but allow me to dispel the rumours and set the record straight._

_When I founded this great House, I wished to name a champion for it. This champion would be a warrior, a guide, a friend, a leader, and a light in the darkness that is the world. As the Prince, these responsibilities are yours._

_You may keep your identity a secret if that is what you wish, but know that you cannot remain in the shadows forever. Your House will now look to you for leadership and guidance and it is up to you to lead the charge. How you do that is up to you._

_My advice to you, is that you must listen to all but use your judgment to make a decision. Build a network of spies who will report to you, create a line of defence, and most importantly, protect the House and the school._

_Chosen by magic as you are, I trust that you are capable. If you need guidance yourself, remember that you were chosen for a reason, and there are no right or wrong decisions. The only wrong decision is the one you do not make._

_I wish you the best, my Prince._

_Sincerely,_

_Salazar Slytherin_


	3. Chapter 3

Jill was exhausted when she woke up the next day. Despite what she had told everyone, she had spent half the night awake making plans and asking Spritzy to fetch her books when she found herself at a loss. She had finally shuffled to bed at 3 am, and was up three hours later to get dressed for breakfast. Spritzy offered to bring her breakfast in bed, but Jill needed to address the House before breakfast.

Sure enough, there were several people, including the four prefects waiting near the portrait when she walked out.

“Good morning,” she said, making them jump slightly due to her sudden appearance. They wished her good morning, and Jill smiled a little. “I know there’s a lot we have to get through, but tonight, after curfew, I’d like to speak with all the prefects,” she said.

“Of course,” said Vera. “We’ll be here.”

“Excellent,” said Jill. She found Daphne and Blaise waiting for her, and she smiled at them as they headed to breakfast together.

“You look like hell,” said Blaise, as Daphne smacked his arm.

“I was up half the night,” said Jill, stifling a yawn. “Speaking of, I need a favour from you two.”

“Jill, you do know that you can just order us to do what you want, right?” asked Daphne, slightly amused.

“I know,” said Jill. “But I don’t want to order you.”

“That’s sweet,” said Blaise, rolling his eyes. “What do you need?”

“Anything you can find about the Peverell family,” said Jill, lowering her voice a little.

Daphne and Blaise exchanged a look. “Jill, that is a little bit complicated,” said Daphne delicately.

“Why? Is it a secret?” asked Jill.

“On the contrary, there’s almost too much information,” said Blaise. “The Peverell family is ancient, and because of that, almost every pureblood family will have some sort of a connection to it.”

“But the family itself died out years ago,” interrupted Daphne. “Until, well, you.”

“Me?” asked Jill.

“The fact that the Bloody Baron acknowledged you as the lady of the family, it means that you are the current heiress,” said Blaise.

“And as such, you need to contact Gringotts as soon as you can,” said Daphne.

Jill nodded slowly as they sat down to eat breakfast, noting absently that others in the House nodded respectfully as she sat down. “I’m meeting with the prefects after curfew in my quarters,” said Jill, dishing up eggs, toast and beans onto her plate. “I’d like you two to be there.”

Blaise paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, while Daphne nearly choked on the bacon she had just bit into.

“What?” asked Jill, noting their shock.

“You...you really want us there?” asked Daphne.

“I value your advice and I could use it,” shrugged Jill, eating her breakfast.

Daphne and Blaise exchanged a look. “Thank you,” said Daphne finally. “That means a lot, Jill. It really does.”

Jill looked surprised at the emotion in her voice. She looked at Blaise, whose usual arrogant face was almost calculating. 

“Your trust honours me, my prince,” said Blaise, in a very low voice. “I shall not let you down.”

Jill gave him a nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you,” she said. “Both of you.”

The three of them returned to their breakfast, slight smiles on all of their faces. The rest of the day was quite eventful. They had Defence Against the Dark Arts with Gryffindor and it was a class that both Daphne and Blaise had been looking forward to. But Professor Quirrell was an awful teacher and his very presence made Jill squirm, for reasons she couldn’t say. Longbottom and his posse deliberately sat away from Jill and her friends, which did improve her mood quite a bit. However, throughout the duration of the class, she saw them muttering to each other and dissolving into silent laughter while pointing at Hermione Granger, who looked like she was going to burst into tears at any moment.

“I just feel bad for her,” said Jill, as she walked with Blaise and Daphne to the dungeons for their Potions lesson.

Blaise snorted but didn’t say anything. Daphne, on the other hand, shrugged. “The Hat chose to put her in the house of the brave. If she’s got guts, she’ll fight back,” she said pragmatically.

“Yeah, well, going up against Longbottom and his posse isn’t exactly a fair fight,” muttered Jill as a few Gryffindor upperclassmen glared at her as she passed.

“It’s not about the fight being fair,” interjected Blaise, his blue eyes glinting. “Few things in life are actually fair. The only difference is that there are people who know how to make things fair for themselves, and then there’s everyone else who laments at the unfairness of it all.”

Jill thought about his words as they took their places in their Potions classroom. Potions turned out to be an interesting class. Having Slytherin and Gryffindor in the same class was explosive enough without adding delicate potions and ingredients to the mix. Professor Slughorn, on the other hand, practically beamed at their table where Jill was partnered up with Daphne, and Blaise had ended up next to Vaisey.

“Welcome to your very first Potions lesson,” said Slughorn. “I shall start by asking a few questions to gauge what you have learned from your books thus far. It is alright if you cannot answer, but try and attempt them regardless. Now then, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Jill’s hand shot up in the air, along with most of Slytherin and Hermione Granger.

“Potter,” pointed Slughorn.

“The Draught of Living Death, sir,” she answered.

He nodded with a wide smile. “Good. Where would I look if you told me to find a bezoar?”

Again, hands went up and he called on Daphne.

“In the stomach of a goat, sir,” she answered.

“Excellent, excellent,” he beamed. “What is the function of a bezoar?” he asked, looking around at the class and stopping at Hermione. “Granger, is it?

“Yes sir,” she said breathlessly. “Bezoar is a cure for most poisons, sir.”

“Good, very good,” he praised. “What is the difference between wolfsbane and monkshood?” he asked.

“There is none, sir,” answered Blaise with a lazy smirk.

Slughorn’s eyes swept over the classroom as he nodded. “Can anyone name a potion that uses fluxweed?” he asked. Surprisingly, Longbottom’s hand shot up at that. “Oh, excellent, Mr. Longbottom, what is the answer?” asked Slughorn, looking pleased.

“Polyjuice potion, sir,” he answered.

Jill’s sharp eyes saw the scribbled scrap of parchment in front of him. She looked at Granger and saw that the parchment in front of her was torn at one corner.

Slughorn, on the other hand, didn’t notice anything odd. “Excellent, well done, Mr. Longbottom,” he praised.

Jill caught Blaise’s gaze and realised that he had also seen that Longbottom had cheated. Unlike Jill, Blaise didn’t look outraged; more like he had been expecting it.

The lesson continued and Slughorn got them started on brewing the boil curing potion. Jill and Daphne worked on their potion quietly, and when he passed them, Slughorn nodded approvingly at them. Longbottom was working with Weasley but Jill saw Granger whispering instructions to them. She didn’t look too happy to be cheating, but if Jill saw the signs right, then she suspected that Granger was being bullied by Longbottom and his cronies.

When time was up, Jill and Daphne were declared to have the best potion brewed. Slughorn awarded them twenty points each, and declared that both girls had taken after their respective mothers. Longbottom looked especially displeased at the attention that Jill was getting, but Jill noticed Granger look over at them in interest.

The bell rang for lunch, and Slughorn dismissed them with a cheery goodbye. At lunch, a few notes were passed down to them by Vera. Jill noticed that the note was from Slughorn, inviting her to be a part of his Slug Club. She noticed that Daphne, Blaise and Malfoy had received similar notes. Around the Great Hall, Longbottom was waving the note that he’d received from Slughorn. Automatically, Jill looked for Granger, who was hastily stuffing the note into her bag.

“So, what is the Slug Club?” asked Jill.

“Old Sluggy likes to invite the rich, famous and talented students to little dinners and parties from time to time,” said Jason Whitman, before leaning in. “My advice, my prince? Go to every party that you get invited to. It’s the best way to build a network.”

Jill nodded, making a note of that. She met Daphne’s gaze, who nodded in return. Blaise just shrugged. “Could be fun,” he said. “More importantly,” he lowered his voice. “What’s your fascination with Granger?”

“I don’t like bullies,” said Jill.

Blaise snorted, and Daphne shot him a look. “You can’t rescue everyone, Jill,” said Daphne practically. “Granger has to stand up for herself.”

“Not when she is all alone,” said Jill. “Besides, it might be useful to have a spy in the house of the lions.”

Blaise grinned at her while Daphne nodded approvingly. “Now, that I can get behind,” said Daphne.

Jill paused thoughtfully, before looking at Hermione, who was sitting by herself, and looked rather morose. “Thanks,” she said to her friends.

All throughout Astronomy, Jill considered the possibility of befriending Hermione. She had no idea why the girl was stuck on her mind. Then again, she appeared to be one of the smarter people in their year, and had an enemy in common with Jill. And Salazar’s letter had indeed mentioned building up a network of spies.

Later in Transfiguration, Professor McGonagall set them back on transfiguring the match into a needle. This time, Jill succeeded, earning ten points for Slytherin. Hermione did it ten minutes later, and Professor McGonagall set them both the harder task of turning a cup into a goblet.

This gave Jill just the chance to talk to Hermione. She looked a little wary when Jill smiled and sat down next to her.

“Do you want to try first?” asked Jill.

“No, you go first,” said Hermione. “You are better.”

There was a bitter note in her tone, and Jill nearly smiled at that. She was competitive, which was a point in her favour.

“Alright,” said Jill. She said the incantation, and the cup went from china to crystal, though it very much remained a cup.

Hermione looked impressed and tried it on her own cup, which didn’t change at all. She huffed in frustration, and Jill raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t push your magic,” she said sensibly. “Magic is about more than waving your wand and saying some words. Just stay calm as you do it.”

Hermione took a deep breath and seemed to listen to Jill. When she said the words, the cup turned into a crystal cup, though it was certainly a little opaque like china.

“Good,” praised Jill. She tried it on her own cup once more, and the cup grew a stem like a goblet, though it was very much still a crystal cup.

Hermione went again, but her cup remained unchanged. “It’s no good,” she huffed. “Yours is better.”

That gave Jill just the opening that she needed. “Do you want to practice after class?” she asked. “My friends and I study in the library every evening.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Really?” she asked, as if she suspected that Jill was trying to make fun of her. “But you’re a Slytherin.”

“And you’re a Gryffindor,” said Jill. “I fail to see what difference it makes.”

Hermione went red. “I don’t know,” she said uncertainly.

Jill felt a stab of annoyance. “Fine,” she shrugged. “I was just offering.” She went back to working on the cup, and from the corner of her eye, saw Hermione bite her lip thoughtfully.

“Okay,” said Hermione finally. “I’d love to study together.”

Jill raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Fine,” she said. “Meet us in the library after dinner then.” She said the incantation at her cup and it transformed into a perfect crystal goblet.

~

“Still can’t believe you are doing this,” muttered Blaise at dinner. “I understand getting her on our side, but why do we have to study with her every evening?”

“You have seen her in classes for two days now,” said Jill. “She is smart.”

“Yet a Muggleborn,” he said.

“So was my mother,” said Jill stonily.

Blaise looked a little startled, and Daphne rolled her eyes. “Ignore Blaise,” she told Jill. “His prejudice gets the better of him sometimes.”

“I am going to do this and if you don’t want any part of it, then you are free to stay out of it,” said Jill.

“I don’t know about him, but I’m sticking with you,” said Daphne. “You’re right. Granger has brains, and she’s a good witch, despite her blood. Blood only gets you so far before it becomes too mixed to have any magic left in it.”

Jill nodded gratefully at her before looking at Blaise. “Fine,” he said. “If only to see if she really has good magic.”

Knowing that was the best she would get from Blaise, Jill nodded. They finished their dinner, and went to the library. They saw Hermione at a table near the window, and walked over to it.

“Hermione,” nodded Jill. “These are my friends, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise Zabini.”

Hermione nodded shyly at them. “Nice to meet you,” she said.

Daphne smiled as Blaise merely nodded. They sat down at the table and took out their books.

“Should we do Slughorn’s homework first?” asked Jill. “Then we could move onto Transfiguration?”

Hermione nodded, as did Daphne and Blaise.

“Excellent,” said Jill, and the four of them began to work quietly.

~

As curfew neared, Jill, Blaise and Daphne headed down to the Slytherin common room to meet with the prefects. Vera, Hector, Jason and Myra looked up when the three of them entered. With a nod, Jill walked into her quarters, and to everyone’s surprise, Daphne and Blaise could follow her in without problem. The prefects followed suit and passed through the portrait to appear into the living room.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” said Jill. “Spritzy!”

The house elf apparated, startling everyone but Jill. “Yes, mistress?” she asked.

“Tea for everyone, please,” said Jill, sitting down in her chair. 

Spritzy nodded and vanished quickly. “This is a damn good place,” commented Blaise as he and Daphne sat to Jill’s right and left respectively.

The prefects followed suit and sat in the armchairs arranged neatly in a circle by the fireplace, nodding in agreement to Blaise’s words. Spritzy walked in from the kitchen, carrying a pot of tea and seven cups on a silver tray. She set it down on a table inside the circle of chairs and poured tea for everyone.

“Thank you, Spritzy,” said Jill, once everyone had been given their tea. “That’s all for now.”

Spritzy bowed and left with a crack. Jill took a sip of her tea and waited until everyone else did the same. Almost as one, all the other six people in the room got a slightly glazed look in their eyes.

Jill set her tea down and looked at each of them in turn, asking a series of questions. They answered dully to the questions, as if in a trance. “Are you a Death Eater? Will you follow Voldemort over me? Will you betray my secrets?”

All six of them answered all three questions with a resounding negative, and Jill smiled before calling for Spritzy again. Spritzy arrived and switched the tea in the cups with a click of her fingers. Jill took another sip of her tea and watched as the other six followed suit. A few moments later, their expression began to clear and they looked around, a little confused.

Blaise was the first to figure it out, and he laughed. “That was sneaky, Potter,” he said.

“I may be eleven, but I’m not an idiot,” said Jill, and then looked around. “I apologise for the Veritaserum in your tea but I had to be certain of your loyalties.”

“That was wise,” nodded Daphne. “Where did you even find it?”

“Spritzy found it in Slughorn’s stores,” said Jill. “She swapped it with vials of water.”

The only one to look slightly put out by the sneaky interrogation was Myra Robbins, the sixth year prefect, but after a pointed look from Jason, she too nodded.

“Now that the unpleasantness is out of the way, let’s get started, shall we?” asked Jill, pulling out the roll of parchment she had been working on the night before. “First of all, I want to thank you for giving me the honour of standing the Slytherin trial. I am well aware that if the prefects hadn’t come together to find the Prince, I might never have been recognised. I am honoured and I give you my sworn word to do right by you and our House. Now, there have been several things I have already thought, but I want to hear your concerns first. What’s the matter of pressing importance?”

The prefects looked at each other, before Vera sighed. “Honestly, the House is in disarray,” she said. “Lucius Malfoy was the last Prince, and he left it in a mess. Those who were swayed by him ended up as the Dark Lord’s lackeys, including most of our parents. The ones who were left were too weak to do anything, and their lines have been subsequently weaker.”

“In other words, the House is shit at the moment,” said Jason. “Too much prejudice, not enough power. And definitely no class. Slytherin was once the proudest and most ambitious House. Nowadays, we are considered little more than bullies.”

“So we start cleaning the House from the inside?” asked Jill.

“With all due respect, I don’t think that will help,” said Hector quietly. “Our run as the dark house has done a lot of damage in the eyes of the other three Houses. Even if we clean House, the prejudice of the rest of the school will be hard to break.”

“We have a war on two fronts then,” said Jill. “We can work with it, though. Who are the Head Boy and Girl this year?”

“The Head Boy is a Ravenclaw. Martin Chambers,” said Myra. “The Head Girl is Charlotte Sainsbury from Hufflepuff.”

“What are they like?” asked Jill.

“Sainsbury is a goody two shoes,” said Vera, rolling her eyes. “No brains on that one, but she is good at bossing people around.”

“Chambers isn’t bad, but he’s mostly busy shagging students,” said Jason. 

“In other words, incompetent, both of them,” surmised Daphne.

Jill sighed and then looked at Jason and Myra. “One of you has to end up in the position next year,” she said. “That’s one of our main goals. Any idea how the Heads are chosen?”

“The Head of the Houses make the recommendations and the Headmaster chooses,” said Vera.

“Leave Slughorn to me,” said Jill. “We have a year to work on this. But to be on the safe side, I want you both to push your performance up, both academic and non-academic. Make yourselves the ideal candidates. Be model students.”

Jason and Myra nodded, and a part of Jill was surprised at how quickly they agreed. Satisfied, Jill took another sip of her tea.

“We need to bring our House out of the dark,” said Jill. “Just enough to put the rest of the school at ease. Who are the worst offenders in the House?”

Vera shifted uncomfortably, and Hector sighed. “Sons and daughters of Death Eaters,” he said. “And I should add that my father was one of those too. He claimed to be under the Imperius to avoid jail time.”

“You don’t wish to follow in his footsteps?” asked Jill.

Hector snorted. “He followed a dark lord who was defeated by a baby,” he said disdainfully. “That’s not a leader I will ever follow.”

Jill nodded once. “How many children of Death Eaters are raising the stink in the House?” she asked.

“I’ll make you a list tomorrow,” said Vera.

“Thank you,” said Jill. “We’ll deal with them, one by one. The other problem, of course, is Malfoy.”

“You certainly dealt with him well yesterday,” chuckled Jason.

“But it won’t always work,” said Daphne.

“I know,” nodded Jill. “He’s still a Malfoy, despite his mother being a Black. And he doesn’t seem to have enough brains to know when to back down. He can be useful for the time being, though. What we need is someone on the inside.” She looked at Daphne and Blaise. “What do you know about Daisy Moon?”

“She’s an idiot,” said Daphne immediately, rolling her eyes. “Dumb as a rock.”

“She’ll be the weak link then,” said Myra, at once. “Crabbe and Goyle are dumb but loyal. Parkinson seems like a shrew but she’s devoted to Malfoy. Moon is a good pick.”

Jill smiled at Myra, and then looked at Daphne. “So, how do we use that? How do we make a spy out of Moon without her knowing she’s reporting on Malfoy and his group?”

“Honestly?” asked Daphne. “We sic someone we trust on her. Someone she’ll confide in. My bet? Tracey Davis.”

“You know her?” asked Jill.

“We were close when we were younger,” said Daphne. “She’s a horrible gossip though, and if anyone can wheedle information out of anyone, it’d be her.”

“What reason do we give her to report it to us?” asked Blaise, and Jill thought that was a fair point.

Daphne smirked. “Because I know where her skeletons are buried,” she said. “Leave it with me.”

Jill nodded. “Alright, it’s officially yours,” she said, striking it off her list. “Speaking of spies, we need to build a network because I’m assuming we don’t have one.”

“We used to,” said Jason. “But having nobody to report to makes it harder to keep people motivated.”

“Fair enough,” said Jill. “I’m already working on a lion, but we still need badgers and eagles.”

“I’ll look into it for you,” said Jason.

“I’ll assist,” said Hector.

“Good,” said Jill. “The next thing on my list is Longbottom.”

“That’s a tricky one,” said Vera. “If you want my advice, hold off on him for now.”

“I second that,” nodded Jason.

Jill paused thoughtfully before agreeing. “Alright,” she said. “The other thing is slightly odd. The third floor corridor.”

Hector smirked. “You noticed that. Good,” he said, looking impressed.

“I assume it’s not usual practice to cordon off an entire part of the castle for mysterious reasons,” said Jill.

“No, it’s not,” said Vera. “Besides, that’s not the interesting part.”

“It’s the fact that the Headmaster announced it for the whole school,” said Blaise.

“Right,” said Daphne, realisation spreading across her face. “If there was something dangerous down there, he could ward it off just as easily. Announcing it to all and sundry sounds too deliberate.”

“They do say Dumbledore’s losing his touch,” shrugged Myra.

“Maybe not,” said Jason. “The old man may seem senile but it would be foolish to underestimate him.”

“I agree,” said Vera. “Whatever is down there might be worth investigating.”

“Let’s gather information for now,” said Jill, taking their advice into consideration. She glanced at her watch and sighed. “I think that should be it for tonight. Vera, I would love that list tomorrow. Jason, Hector, the two of you have your tasks. Daphne, you are working on our little internal spy. Myra, if you wouldn’t mind assisting.”

“I’d be happy to,” said Myra, giving a nod in Daphne’s direction.

“Excellent, then Blaise and I can divide our focus on other matters,” said Jill. “Is there anything else that requires urgent attention?”

“Yes,” said Vera. “We need someone to protect you. You might be the Prince but you’re still a first year. If anyone in the House blabs, or if someone in the House tries to attack you, we need someone to look after you.”

“I volunteer for that,” said Blaise.

“You’re also a first year,” Myra pointed out.

“But my mother ensured that I could duel from the time I was seven,” he said. “I’ll be by Jill’s side. If there’s a threat, I’ll take care of it.”

“And I’ll also have Spritzy,” said Jill. “She’s already keeping an eye on the food and drink I consume in the Great Hall, and she’s combing through my mail as well. Between her and Blaise, I should be fine. If there is a persistent threat, we can think about upping security.”

“It might also be a good idea to start training yourself,” said Hector.

“I know,” said Jill. “I need to find a teacher.”

Jason paused thoughtfully. “I might know someone,” he said. “I’ll get back to you.”

“Thank you,” said Jill. “Let’s meet at the end of the week to go over our progress. In the meantime, stay sharp.”

~

The rest of the week passed well. Jill and her friends continued to study with Hermione in the evening, and Jill partnered up with Hermione in the classes they had together. Most people had been surprised at a Slytherin befriending a Gryffindor, but the people in Slytherin knew their Prince would have a reason for it. Those that were stupid enough to question it were silenced by quick intervention by those more cunning. Most of the upperclassmen had accepted Jill’s position quite quickly.

When Jill had mentioned it to Jason, he had laughed and told her that they had been starved for a good leader, and Jill had come along at the right time. The younger ones were harder to win over, but Jill was hoping to change that soon. Malfoy still remained a vocal opponent, though he had wised up to not blab in sight of Jill, her friends, or the upperclassmen. Jill’s council, as the prefects and her friends were called, had already delved into their tasks, and Jill was as pleased as could be. It also gave her time to focus on Hermione.

Gryffindors, on the other hand, were not satisfied. Jill and Hermione working together in Potions had made cheating impossible for Longbottom, and Slughorn seemed to be getting steadily less impressed by his lack of talent. Blaise assured Jill that Longbottom would not be kicked out of the Slug Club for his lack of prowess due to his fame, but it did give Jill some satisfaction.

Hermione certainly seemed happier once she started hanging out with Jill and her friends. They had most of their classes together, and she would only have to be on her own for meals. They met in the library together every evening and stayed there until curfew, after which she went to bed immediately. It didn’t leave her interacting with her housemates for a long time. Additionally, her dorm mates seemed to have a crush on Blaise, and far from being angry, they wanted to gossip all about it.

Blaise was not happy when he heard about that, but he knew that Hermione was not much of a gossip, so he wasn’t bothered. He still wasn’t all that fond of Hermione, but even he had to admit that her photographic memory and competitive nature was a gift. Daphne was just smug that she had been right all along.

On Friday evening, the council met their Prince in her quarters. Spritzy had fixed them a nice supper, made freshly in the kitchen of the Prince’s quarters, and they all ate at the dining table, sharing their progress with the Prince.

“Overall, there’s about fifteen of them, but they’re vocal ones,” said Vera, nodding at the list she had given Jill. “Malfoy, of course. Crabbe, Goyle and Nott from your year too. The older ones are rare but Flint is the biggest one of them. There are some who are on the fence, but I think if we make an example of a few of them, the rest will fall in line.”

Jill looked at the rest of the council, who nodded their agreement. “Who do we target?” she asked.

“If you ask me, Flint is our best bet,” said Hector. “He’s the Quidditch Captain, which puts him in a position of power. If he’s brought to heel, then you’d be dethroning a powerful opponent and sending a message at the same time.”

“Besides, Flint isn’t exactly the smartest,” said Myra.

“I agree,” said Jill. “Any suggestions on how we go about this?”

“A direct show of power would be my suggestion,” said Blaise.

Daphne nodded along. “Provoke him in sight of the House and then knock him down viciously,” she said.

“I like it,” said Jill. 

“Speaking of knocking people down, I might have found you a suitable teacher,” said Jason.

“Oh?” asked Jill, sitting up in interest.

“Ciel Marchand,” he said. “He’s a sixth year. Neutral family. He comes from a long line of Hit Wizards, and is arguably the best duelist in the House. I approached him on your behalf and he’s willing to train you. But he wants something in exchange.”

“Tell him the Prince owes him nothing,” said Vera, narrowing her eyes.

Jason held up his hand. “His request is not unreasonable,” he said. 

“What does he want?” asked Jill.

“To be named head of the Marchand family,” said Jason.

“What’s the chain of succession?” asked Daphne.

“Ciel is the oldest child and only son. He has two younger sisters. His father is the one in charge currently but the man is a fool and will waste away their fortune before Ciel or his sisters see any of it,” said Jason.

“And the mother?” asked Jill.

“Dead,” said Jason. “Philius Marchand was a good Hit Wizard but losing his wife made him go off the deep end. He wastes his days on consulting divination experts and paying for whores.”

“And Ciel wants him out of the picture? In what way?” asked Jill.

“The permanent way,” said Jason.

Jill sighed and was silent for a few moments. “I want to speak with him face to face before I make a decision,” she said. “Ask him if he’s amiable to meeting me here on Sunday after breakfast.”

Jason nodded. “I’ll be sure to do that,” he said. “For what it’s worth, Marchand will bring more than his skills to the table. The two sisters are in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Fourth and second year respectively. It’d be a good way to get some spies in those Houses.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Jill. “Any other people we might be able to turn?”

“You’ll enjoy this,” said Jason, with a grin. “Remember Charlotte Sainsbury? Our precious Hufflepuff Head Girl?”

“What about her?” asked Jill.

Jason passed her a rolled up scroll of parchment. Jill put her cutlery down and unfurled the parchment. Written in black ink were a series of hastily written numbers next to the names of several Quidditch teams.

“It appears Miss Sainsbury has a little gambling problem,” said Jason. “She has already blown through her money but since she comes from humble beginnings, she doesn’t have a lot of family money to rely on. So, she has apparently started dipping into the school funds allocated to the Head Girl and Boy for student welfare.”

A slow smile spread over Jill’s face. “Wonderful,” she said. “I think we ought to buy up the debt, don’t you think?”

Jason grinned widely. “Want me to approach her?” he asked.

“No,” said Jill. “You and Myra are keeping your hands clean. As are Hector and Vera. No, what we need is someone, let’s just say...underhanded for this.”

“Vaisey,” said Blaise at once, and to Jill’s surprise, all of her council nodded. “If you want a family who deals with the worst of the worst on behalf of wizarding elite, it’s the Vaisey family. They know everyone’s secrets and they know how to get what they want for their master.”

“Isn’t there a Vaisey in your year?” asked Myra.

“Julius Vaisey, yes,” said Blaise, and looked at Jill.

She gave a short nod. “Tomorrow is Saturday. Let’s invite him to lunch. Spritzy can make something nice,” she said.

“Understood,” said Blaise.

“Excellent,” said Jill. “Daphne, Myra, how are we doing on your front?”

“Davis is in,” said Daphne. “It didn’t take a lot to convince her. She has been hovering around Moon and Parkinson and gathering intel.”

Jill nodded, having noticed that during the week. “How are you communicating?” she asked. “Parkinson may be a shrew but she’s not an idiot. She knows that you and I are friends and if she sees Davis with you…”

“We used to write each other letters in a secret language when we were kids,” said Daphne. “We’re using the same method of communication.”

“And what have you learned so far?” asked Hector.

“Malfoy is unhappy. The night of the ceremony he wrote his father and informed him of your ascension to the mantle, Jill,” said Daphne. 

“Do we expect retaliation soon?” asked Jill.

“Honestly? I don’t know if Lucius Malfoy will be so opposed to you as the Prince,” said Myra.

“How so?” asked Jill curiously.

“Well, for one, Malfoy Sr. is well aware that he left the mantle sullied with what he did to it during his reign,” said Myra. “The Prince was supposed to be a rank of respect and power, not a bully and a recruiter for a failed Dark Lord. Malfoy Sr. still has considerable influence over the Ministry and such, but if he’d kept the House clean, he would be much further along in his hold over the wizarding world, let me tell you.”

“Wouldn’t he want his son to do just that then?” asked Blaise. “Be a better Prince to expand the influence of the Malfoy family?”

“In the future, yes,” said Myra. “But for the time being, with Draco being the way he is, I think even his father can tell that he’ll do more harm than good in the position.”

“So, he’ll bide his time?” asked Jill.

“More than likely, yes,” said Myra.

“Alright, but let’s keep an eye out just the same,” said Jill. “Anything else Davis passed along?”

“She added that it doesn’t take a lot for Moon to blab,” said Daphne. “And surprisingly, Parkinson for all her slyness, can never resist blabbing about her favourite topic.”

“I’m guessing that’s the younger Malfoy,” said Jason.

Daphne nodded. “She’s hoping for a betrothal,” she said. “As we know, the Parkinson family finances have been in shambles for some time. An alliance like that will bring them much wealth.”

“That’s a point in our favour then,” said Vera. “We can use that.”

“Well done, all of you,” said Jill. “I think we’re making progress, which is good. The other thing I wanted to bring up today was making my familial ascension valid with the goblins.”

“You mean your title as the Peverell heiress?” asked Hector. “That is an excellent plan.”

“I don’t want to do it through the mail. Only trouble is, I can’t go to Gringotts until Yule,” said Jill. “And we don’t have that kind of time.”

Vera paused thoughtfully. “I can arrange something, given some time. A week, perhaps?” she asked.

“You’ve got it,” nodded Jill. 

“Thank you, my Prince,” said Vera. “And may I add, having your familial ascension made public in the House will really help bring people to heel.”

“I’m counting on it,” said Jill. “I definitely am.”

~

On the Saturday at the end of their first week, Slughorn was having his first Slug Club dinner. It was an informal dinner, but both Daphne and Blaise were insistent that Jill should dress well, as a symbol of her power. 

As promised, Blaise invited Julius Vaisey to lunch in Jill’s quarters. This time, only Daphne and Blaise attended, leaving the prefects out of it. At exactly noon, Vaisey approached the portrait, and was let in. He found the Prince sitting in her chair with Zabini and Greengrass on either side of her.

He smiled a little and bowed respectfully. “I was hoping for this invitation, my Prince,” he said.

“So you know why you are here?” she asked, her voice neutral.

“I am well aware of what my family does and what is expected of me because of it,” he said, looking her straight in the eyes. 

“Good,” she said and stood up. Zabini and Greengrass followed suit, as she led the way through a door on the left. “Lunch awaits and we have much to discuss.”

“Gladly, my Prince,” said Vaisey, with a smirk and a short bow.

A very successful and productive lunch later, Blaise, Jill and Daphne met with Hermione in the library to work through their pile of homework. While there, Hermione did bring up Slughorn’s party, and Daphne agreed to let her borrow her spare dress robes so she could dress up as well. 

As evening fell, Hermione went to the Gryffindor tower to get dressed, while Jill, Daphne and Blaise returned to the dungeons. Jill had ordered the dress robes via Owl Order on Daphne’s instructions, and she was glad to see that the forest green robes fit her well and made her look slightly older. 

Slughorn’s office had an adjoining chamber used for parties and gatherings, and this time, a long table had been set, laden with food. There were placecards set up on the table, and Jill raised her eyebrows when she realised that she was seated on Slughorn’s immediate left with Daphne, Blaise and Hermione next to her in that order. Neville Longbottom had been given the seat at Slughorn’s right, which meant that he was seated right opposite Jill. She was none too pleased about it, but a part of her was cheering at the fact that none of his posse had made the cut to be invited to the Slug Club.

“Settle down, settle down,” said Slughorn cheerily as they walked in and took their places at the table. “I decided to invite only the first years this time to get to know you all better. A bit more of an intimate dinner than my usual parties, I’m afraid.”

Most people smiled back politely, and Jill’s eyes scanned the table as she saw other first years from various houses. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were the only other Slytherins, no other Gryffindors except Neville and Hermione were there, though there were several Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, including Susan Bones, Terry Boot, Lisa Turpin, Su Li, Anthony Goldstein, Michael Corner and Ernie Macmillan.

“Oh, do tuck in,” said Slughorn, serving himself a hefty chunk of roast meat.

The rest of the students followed suit and for a while, the only sounds were those of clanging knives and forks as they ate. Halfway through the meal, Slughorn began talking to each of the students, usually recounting their famous relatives or their talent.

“Miss Granger, such a strong mind! I was surprised you were not a Ravenclaw. Surely you must have some magic in your family. Related to the Dagworth-Grangers, perhaps?”

“Lovely woman, your mother, Mr. Zabini. Such a beauty!”

“One of the best students I ever taught, your mother was, Miss Greengrass. If only I could have persuaded her to choose Potions over Herbology as her favourite.”

“Ah, dear Lily, such a shame she was never a Slytherin. She would have fit right in with us. You are so much like her, Miss Potter. Utterly charmed that you ended up a Slytherin even if your mother wasn’t.”

“And of course, the Boy-Who-Lived, Mr. Longbottom. Lovely, lovely.”

And on and on it went throughout the whole dinner, until dessert was served. The talks dwindled down once more, until one of the Ravenclaws prodded Slughorn for stories about his past students and then came the first time that Jill heard the name Severus Snape.

“Ah, so many wonderful students I have taught,” reminisced Slughorn, polishing off his sixth glass of mead. “My predecessor, for one. Dear old Severus Snape. He was a friend of your mother’s, Miss Potter.”

“He was?” asked Jill, interested despite herself.

“But they had a falling out a long time ago,” he continued. “All for the better, though.”

“Why?” She kept her voice innocent enough, but everyone else seemed just as curious as her, even Neville.

Slughorn looked slightly uncomfortable. “He was found to have...distasteful associations,” he said delicately, setting his drink down. “It is also why he no longer teaches at Hogwarts.”

“Distasteful?” asked Ernie. “Like the Dark?”

“Precisely like that, yes,” said Slughorn, squirming slightly. “He is in Azkaban now.”

There was utter silence following this pronouncement, and Slughorn hastily glanced at his watch. “Oh, is it the time already? Well, off you all go now! Wouldn’t want to be out past curfew now, would we?”

Everyone stood up and began wishing him goodnight, even though curfew was a while away and it was apparent that Slughorn was just trying to get rid of them.

Jill met Blaise and Daphne’s gaze and knew that there would be some digging to do about Severus Snape and exactly why he was in Azkaban.


	4. Chapter 4

The topic of Severus Snape stayed on Jill’s mind for the rest of the night. She almost forgot that she was supposed to meet Ciel Marchand for breakfast until Jason and Ciel approached the portrait of Merlin. Brushing aside errant thoughts, Jill invited them in and asked Spritzy to serve breakfast to the three of them.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, my Prince,” said Ciel.

Jill was surprised to see who Ciel Marchand was. She had expected someone tough and burly, but Ciel was a tall, lanky boy with smooth, aristocratic features and startling blue eyes. His voice was gentle, almost effeminate, and he was dressed in fine clothing that fit too well to have been anything but personally handcrafted for him.

“Of course,” said Jill, as they sat at the table in the dining room. Spritzy served them breakfast and tea, and they were quiet as they ate. “So,” began Jill, once breakfast had been cleared away and Spritzy brought in a fresh pot of tea. “Jason said you’d be willing to train me for a price.”

Ciel nodded and sipped his tea. He blinked once and then a small smile curled on his lips. “Ah, veritaserum in my tea,” he murmured before his eyes glazed over. “I expected nothing less, my Prince.”

“It’s a precaution,” said Jill. “And I apologise for the dose being a bit stronger than usual because I anticipated that you might be prepared for it.”

“I understand,” he said.

“Are you a Death Eater?” asked Jill.

“No,” he answered.

“Will you follow Voldemort over me?” asked Jill.

“No,” he said. “I will never follow a failed Dark Lord.”

“Do you harbour any ill intent towards me?” asked Jill.

“No,” he said, once more. 

“Why do you want your father dead?” asked Jill, her voice still just as steady.

“He’s weak,” said Ciel. “He treats my sisters and I worse than dirt and is tossing our fortune away on his own pleasures. He besmirches the name of my family and the legacy we hold dear.”

“What do you want from me?” asked Jill.

“A full pardon,” he said. “For murdering my father. The Marchand family has been the unofficial vassal to the Potter family for generations. As my lady, you need to grant me a pardon and my rightful title upon my father’s death.”

Jill paused and then called for Spritzy who switched out his tea. A few moments later, Ciel’s gaze cleared and he nodded at Jill.

“I was unaware of the Potter family having vassals,” said Jill.

“The Potter family was never a part of the Sacred Twenty Eight so they couldn’t have an official vassal,” explained Ciel. “But my family has served yours for generations.” He lowered his gaze. “My father also failed his responsibility to you upon the death of your parents. You ought to have been raised in the wizarding world with our ways.”

Jill’s face hardened and she closed her eyes. “How do you plan on killing him?” she asked.

“Poison, quick and painless,” he answered calmly. “My sisters and I will be at school when it happens. I have been assured that my money is in safe hands and it will be done quickly and efficiently.”

Jill nodded once and opened her eyes. “Once his death is announced, I will ensure your rightful title is bestowed upon you,” she said and stood up.

Ciel and Jason rose as well. Drawing her wand, Jill touched the tip of it to Ciel’s chest. A slow white glow erupted from her wand and he gasped as the tendrils of white curled to form a crest on his chest. The glow died down and Jill lowered her wand. Ciel gasped and looked at the Marchand family crest once before going down on one knee before Jill.

“I understand and accept my mantle, my lady,” he said, bowing his head as the crest dissipated slowly.

“Good,” said Jill. “Now, stand. When will we have the pleasure of announcing you as the head of the Marchand family?”

Ciel stood up and frowned slightly. “I was thinking around Halloween,” he said.

“Very well,” said Jill. “When do we begin my training?”

“I can begin today, if you wish,” he said. “After lunch, perhaps.”

“Certainly,” said Jill. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are other matters that require my attention.”

“Of course, my lady,” said Ciel, with a quick bow. “I’ll see you shortly.”

Jill inclined her head in acknowledgement, and Ciel left with a slight smile on his face and a buoyancy to his steps that hadn’t been there before. Jill turned to Jason, who was looking impressed at the display. 

“There’s something I want to discuss with the council,” said Jill. “But since I’m going to be busy this afternoon, can I leave it with you?”

“Of course,” said Jason, slightly surprised that she even had to ask.

“What do you know about Severus Snape?” she asked.

Jason’s confusion cleared and he nodded. “Ah,” he said. “Yes, there is a lot there. He was the former Potions Master and Head of Slytherin. And a Death Eater, though one Dumbledore himself vouched for as a spy for the Light in the Dark Lord’s den.”

“So his association was well known?” asked Jill, narrowing her eyes.

“Yes, it was a matter of public record,” said Jason. “But two months ago, there was a trial held for him and he was sent to Azkaban.”

“Dumbledore wasn’t able to keep him out this time?” asked Jill.

Jason shook his head. “Dumbledore was the one who led the charge for his arrest,” he said.

Jill looked shocked. “Why?” she asked.

“I don’t know, but I can find out for you,” he said.

“Do that,” said Jill. “Thank you, Jason.”

Jason nodded and bowed. “Of course, my Prince.”

~

Jill spent the rest of the morning studying with Blaise, Daphne and Hermione in the library. Around lunch, she escaped down to her quarters where Spritzy had made her some cucumber sandwiches for a light lunch. She had just finished up when Spritzy let Ciel inside the quarters.

Unlike the fashionably tailored robes from this morning, he was dressed in finely crafted black leather armour with the Marchand crest over his heart. In his hand, he carried a mask and an envelope. When he saw Jill, he gave her a quick bow. “Do you have a place where we can practice?” he asked.

Silently, Jill beckoned him to follow and led him to the empty training room that blazed to life when she entered. Ciel followed after her and set the envelope down near the door before closing it behind him.

Jill had her back turned to him when she felt a spell whoosh by her ear. She whirled around with her wand in her hand, but it flew out from her fingers and landed cleanly into Ciel’s hand. He smirked and then walked over to her to hand it back.

“We shall begin with the basics then,” he said, handing her wand back to her. “First and foremost, never turn your back on anyone unless you have someone you trust watching it.”

“Understood,” said Jill, berating herself for not realising the simple precaution. If Ciel had wanted to harm her, he could have done so easily because of her lack of awareness. “What’s the mask?” she asked.

Ciel placed the mask on his face, and it was a plain black mask which covered his face completely. When it touched his face, it automatically affixed itself without any fastenings, and then expanded to enclose his entire head into a hood. It perfectly matched the armour he was wearing. “This is a privately commissioned suit of duelling armour,” he said, his voice just as clear, even with the mask he was wearing. “It’s enchanted with several protective charms, and has been crafted personally to my fighting style and strength to compensate for my weaknesses.”

“I take it your family has someone capable of making something like this,” said Jill, impressed.

“You thought correctly,” he said. “Unfortunately, we would have to visit them in Diagon Alley to get you fitted for it.”

“I am meaning to go to Gringotts for some business in a few days,” said Jill.

“That works perfectly,” he said. “If you could inform me of the actual day, I can accompany you.”

Jill nodded. “Sounds good,” she said. “So, how do we train?”

Ciel looked around at the empty training room. “Honestly? We will have to start with basic physical training first,” he said. “At eleven, you are just not strong enough for some of the casting that is required for a duellist. You will need to train your body and if I can speak with your elf, we will also have to amend your diet a little.”

Jill nodded and called for Spritzy. Ciel summoned the envelope he had left near the door and handed it to Spritzy. “It details the exact specifications of what, when and how much you should eat and drink,” said Ciel, before looking at Spritzy. “Be sure she follows it.”

Spritzy looked at Jill for confirmation, and Jill gave a slight nod. Spritzy bowed to both of them and vanished with the envelope.

“So, physical training?” asked Jill. “No magic at all?”

“Well, some magic,” said Ciel. “You won’t be able to cast the harder curses and counters, but simpler spells you can master. And sometimes, it’s better to be proficient in the easier spells because people tend to overlook the merits of a well-cast severing charm over a sloppy unforgivable. Additionally, I also want to focus on your mind. Occlumency and Legilimency have to become second nature to you, which is where we will begin today. Prepare yourself.”

Jill drew her wand and faced Ciel. It was going to be a tough few hours.

~ 

By the time they were done, Jill was exhausted. Ciel left after a quick bow and Jill all but sank into the hot bath that Spritzy had drawn for her. Her muscles ached, her magical core was smarting, but she felt powerful. Ciel had put her through the wringer with Legilimency until Jill could hold his initial attack off a little bit. Her Occlumency could not hold off the full brunt but she could at least block a little. Ciel was tough, but patient as he explained what she was doing wrong and pushed her to do better. 

After two hours of Occlumency, he taught her the disarming charm that he’d used on her. Jill had surprised them both by being successful at casting it on him on her third attempt. Ciel had gotten a contemplative look in his eyes as he then started teaching her the stinging hex. Once again, she took less than ten tries to cast it successfully. Ciel had looked absurdly pleased at her progress, and then he’d made her run laps around the training room for half an hour before declaring her done.

He had left behind a full training schedule which was now pinned on the door of the training room, and as excited as Jill was for her training, she knew it was going to be hell on her body while she got past the initial pains. She finished her bath and all but collapsed onto her bed, mumbling at Spritzy to wake her before six the next morning. She did wake up around midnight with her stomach growling and Spritzy gave her some fruit to eat before she went right back to sleep. When she finally woke back up at six, she was feeling well-rested, if a little sore.

“You look like you had a busy day,” said Daphne, when she met her and Blaise in the common room to go to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“I did,” she said. “I’ll tell you all about it in the evening.”

Vera caught up to them just as they reached the table and slipped her a note before walking away. Jill opened it as she sat down at the Slytherin table for breakfast.

_Have a way to get you out of Hogwarts for a day. Is Saturday convenient? Need to know as soon as possible_

_-Vera-_

_P.S. Drop this note in water as soon as you finish reading it_

Jill crumpled the note and tossed it into her goblet of water where it dissolved a moment later. She glanced to where Vera was sitting and gave a short nod. Vera nodded back and went back to her breakfast.

“Something important?” asked Blaise, placing a fresh goblet of water before her.

“Yes,” said Jill, but they were interrupted by the arrival of the Owl Post. Hedwig flew in and dropped the morning’s copy of the Daily Prophet on Jill’s plate. Jill fed her some bacon and opened up the newspaper. Most of it was mundane, but Jill still read through the entire newspaper while she ate, making sure to keep an eye on everything.

“You know,” Daphne said to her as they headed to Charms together. “You are allowed to delegate.”

“I do delegate,” said Jill.

“You spent the entire breakfast scouring the newspaper when all you need is a short summary of stuff that matters,” said Daphne. “Why don’t you let me take care of that?”

Jill looked at her in surprise. “I don’t want you to take on extra work for me, Daphne,” she said.

Blaise snorted as Daphne smiled. “Jill, I know you mean well, but you’ve got to start thinking of people around you as, pardon the word, your assistants,” she said.

Jill stared at her friends. “I don’t think of you two like that,” she said defiantly.

“We know,” said Blaise. “Daphne’s trying to say that you should start.”

Jill opened her mouth but they passed Longbottom and his posse, which made her scowl. “If I start acting like that, what would be the difference between him and me?” she muttered to her friends.

Daphne looked a little startled while Blaise smiled thoughtfully. “Point taken,” said Blaise. “But you already have a lot on your plate. Delegate, Jillian, or you’ll find yourself failing.”

Jill almost scowled at the use of her full name but the inflection Blaise had put on it had made it sound different than she’d ever heard it, and she suddenly felt a little bit embarrassed. She merely nodded and then busied herself looking at her books to avoid his gaze.

The day passed without event, and Jill did her best to focus in class but found herself distracted with everything that needed her attention. She decided that delegating might not be a bad idea, and started planning towards it. Once the classes were over, she worked on her homework with Blaise, Daphne and Hermione until curfew when the Slytherins headed back to the dungeons. As they got closer to the common room, a breathless Tracey Davis came running to them.

“S-Slughorn in the common room,” she panted, when she saw them. “Parkinson blabbed.”

Blaise and Daphne instantly froze in horror and looked at Jill. Jill’s face was hard as a rock, but then she suddenly smiled. “Go back in,” she told Tracey, who nodded and scuttled off. 

“Jill, what do we-?” Daphne began to ask, and Jill shushed her. 

“Our Head of House is waiting for me,” she said and started walking towards the common room. Daphne and Blaise exchanged a look and followed her.

Slughorn was waiting in the middle of the full common room. Jill’s council and most of the House looked pissed off, but Malfoy and Parkinson looked like Christmas had come early. The rest just looked intrigued as Jill entered with Blaise and Daphne in tow.

“Miss Potter,” said Slughorn, when he saw her. “Miss Parkinson has just delivered some troubling news to me.”

“What is it, Professor?” asked Jill, eyes wide and innocent.

Slughorn seemed to falter a little but he cleared his throat. “She informed me that you have not been sleeping in the first year girls’ dormitory,” he said. “That you have claimed a part of the common room for yourself.”

Jill smiled at him. “Pansy is absolutely right, Professor,” she said, and out of the corner of her eyes, she saw the girl’s smile falter. She had clearly expected Jill to deny it. “I’m sorry, Professor, but I wanted to tell this to you in private.” With that, Jill rested the tip of her wand onto the Slytherin crest on her school robes and the crest glowed brightly.

Slughorn’s eyes got wide, and then very contemplative. “Is that what I think it is, Miss Potter?” he asked.

Jill lowered her wand. “Yes, Professor,” she said, and then bashfully lowered her head. “I only found out a week ago, but I wasn’t sure how to bring it up to you. After all, what is the Slytherin Prince without the proper guidance of the Head of the House?”

The contemplative look on Slughorn’s cleared immediately and he started nodding to himself. “I understand, Miss Potter,” he said. “Or, Prince Potter, as you are.” He chuckled to himself, and Jill could see the gears in his head turning. “It’s wonderful. Simply wonderful. You are the perfect choice, Miss Potter, if you don’t mind me saying.”

Jill’s smile got wider. “Thank you, Professor,” she said, sounding breathlessly chuffed at the praise. “Honestly, I think it’s because of what you have been telling me about my mother, sir.”

Slughorn was now openly pleased. “Oh, I am just a humble Professor, Miss Potter,” he said. “Nothing gives me more joy than seeing my pupils succeed and make their mark on the world.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully and looked at Jill. “Your secret is safe with me, Miss Potter. And I’ll keep the eye of the other staff away from you.”

“Professor, I don’t know what to say,” she said, making her eyes even wider. “I only hope I can count on you to guide me towards the right path.”

“Of course, of course, Miss Potter,” nodded Slughorn vigorously. “Carry on, now.” He nodded to the rest of the common room and patted Jill on the shoulder as he left.

Once he was gone, Jill let her adoring look drop and levelled a glare at Parkinson. “That wasn’t very clever, was it?” she asked.

Pansy looked like someone had force fed her something bitter while Malfoy’s eyes were spitting fire.

Jill looked around at the common room once, before looking back at Malfoy and Parkinson. “You just showed the House,” said Jill, sounding amused. “You showed them exactly who you are. Traitors to the House!”

“Traitors!” shouted Jason from the crowd, and murmurs began spreading with the word ‘traitors’ being uttered more than once.

Jill smirked at Malfoy and Parkinson. “Consider yourselves the idiots who tried to overthrow the Prince and betray the House and failed spectacularly at it,” she said. “No wonder you were overlooked for the position, Malfoy. You clearly don’t have what it takes to be the Prince. You would betray the House for your own gains. You disgust me!” She looked at Parkinson. “And you lack the most basic of cunning. Worse than Hufflepuffs. Pathetic!”

She turned to the rest of the common room and glared. “Let the traitors be an example to you,” she said. “The House stands together. You betray one of us, you betray us all.” She glanced back at Malfoy and Parkinson, who realised that the very, very hostile gaze of the House was on them. Even the ones on the fence before looked properly angry and pissed off at two of their own trying to betray the House.

“You know,” said Jill, smirking at Malfoy and Parkinson. “The House has a way to deal with traitors like you, but I’m feeling generous today. Either of you put another toe out of line, the wrath of the entire House will be upon you. And that, I swear on my word as the Lady Peverell. Now, clear off.”

For a moment it looked like Malfoy would draw his wand, but Pansy tugged insistently on his arm, and the two left towards the dormitories. Jill watched them leave, and then looked at her council. Jason and Hector looked proud, Myra was hiding a smile, Vera was still glaring in the direction of Malfoy and Parkinson, and Daphne and Blaise looked very much torn between impressed and amused. Jill held her head a little higher and nodded at the common room in general.

“The House sticks together,” she said firmly. “I will make sure it does.”

With that, she turned and walked inside her quarters. Inside, she let out the breath she was holding and almost collapsed into her chair by the fireplace. Her heart was pounding as the facade of calm crumbled and she felt the beginnings of an anxiety attack. She hadn’t had one of those in over two years, but it seemed that the stress of her first week had finally caught up to her. Jill closed her eyes and tried to focus on breathing as her skin went clammy, her stomach felt like lead, and tiny pinpricks of icy needles seemed to pierce her racing heart. She completely missed it when Spritzy appeared with a crack and forced a vial of something bitter and unpleasant down her throat. However, a minute later, her vision began to focus once more, and she felt the attack starting to pass.

“Is mistress being okay?” asked Spritzy anxiously.

Jill nodded slowly. “Was that a calming draught?” she asked.

“Yes, mistress,” said Spritzy.

“Thank you,” said Jill, smiling weakly. She looked down at herself and realised that her clothes were drenched in cold sweat and grimaced before getting to her feet slowly and heading for a shower and change of clothes.

Nearly half an hour later when her council walked in, Jill was freshly showered and dressed, with not a hair out of place and the look of absolute calm on her face.

“Well, that was one way to make the House fall in line,” said Jason as soon as they entered.

Jill smiled. “What is the general sentiment?” she asked.

“The general sentiment is there is no doubt that Jillian Potter is the Prince of Slytherin,” said Blaise. “That was some excellent maneuvering of Slughorn, by the way.”

“You said it yourself that the man is a collector,” said Jill. “What better to offer him than the chance to collect the Prince of Slytherin.”

“Bloody brilliant,” nodded Jason. “I’d say the naysayers will fall in line quickly now. Even those that don’t like you can’t deny the power you hold.”

“Good,” nodded Jill. “Malfoy and Parkinson actually did me a favour.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to mete out a punishment?” asked Vera. “What they did was underhanded and stupid. They are a disgrace to the House.”

“Yes, but there was bound to be someone who would do it,” said Myra rationally. “I agree that it’s better to have an example made, but if you were too harsh on them, they might attract sympathy. And trust me, there was no sympathy for them out there today.”

“Although, I assume that a letter is being written to Lucius Malfoy as we speak,” said Hector.

“I’d expect nothing less,” said Jill, and turned to Daphne. “Ask Davis to stay close to Parkinson and Moon. I’m inclined to think that they’d be social pariahs for a while, and what better way to earn their trust than have an ally at a time like this.”

Daphne smirked. “I’ll get on it,” she said.

“Lovely, and could you fetch Ciel and Julius, please?” asked Jill. 

Daphne nodded and left. Spritzy arrived and served them all fresh tea and scones. A few minutes passed before Daphne returned with Julius Vaisey and Ciel Marchand in tow. 

“Settle down, gentlemen,” said Jill. “Consider yourselves officially a part of the council.”

Julius looked pleased and gave a quick bow. “Thank you, my Prince,” he said, and sat down near Daphne. 

Ciel was more surprised, but he too nodded and bowed. “You honour me, my Prince,” he said, taking a seat near Jason and Myra.

Jill gave them both a small smile before looking at Vera. “Vera, do you want to explain your note this morning?” she asked.

“Right,” said Vera. “I have a way to get you out of Hogwarts for the day. It’ll be quick and you’ll be able to return without attracting attention.”

“I have a visit to make to Gringotts,” explained Jill to those who weren’t in the know. “And Ciel has agreed to accompany me since we also have other business to take care of.”

Vera nodded and looked at Ciel. “That will not be a problem,” she said. “I was about to suggest an escort, regardless.” She drew out a rolled up scroll of parchment and handed it to Jill. “That’s a map of the passageway leading from the dungeons to Hogsmeade. I am enchanting two portkeys for you to get there and back.”

“I hope you’re being discreet with the enchanting,” said Myra.

Vera looked annoyed that there would be any doubt about it. “I’m using Ministry credentials to do it,” she said.

“Whose?” asked Jill.

“An auror. John Dawlish,” said Vera. “Julius here helped me get them.”

Julius smirked a little. “Auror Dawlish has his weaknesses,” he said. “It took only a quick scan of the file my family has on him to get what we needed.”

“Good,” nodded Jill. “I assume the portkey is to Diagon Alley?”

“Yes,” said Vera.

“Ciel?” asked Jill.

“That works, yes,” he said. 

“Excellent,” said Jill. “Julius, how are we doing on our Head Girl?”

“Ah yes, Miss Sainsbury,” he smiled. “I approached her as you instructed me to do. She tried to deny there was a problem, but the gold changed her mind.” His smirk became wider. “It usually does.”

“Did she agree?” asked Daphne.

“Yes, she did,” said Julius, and pulled out a scroll of parchment from his robes which he gave to Jill.

Jill opened it to find the minutes of the Head Girl and Boy’s meeting with the Headmaster and the rest of the staff that happened every Monday morning. The information was incredibly detailed and appeared to be a magical transcript of everything that had transpired during the meeting. “Well done,” she said, smiling at Julius. “Is she willing to do this every week?”

“As long as we keep paying her debt,” said Julius.

“Is it worth it?” asked Hector.

“The information is valuable, but not that valuable,” said Julius. “Fortunately, I have another way to motivate her.”

“Share with the class then,” said Ciel.

“Young Miss Sainsbury is in love,” said Julius gleefully. “With a Slytherin, no less.”

“I was unaware of a Slytherin dating her,” frowned Vera.

“Oh, he isn’t dating her,” said Julius. “She is smitten and he has no idea.”

“Who’s the lucky oblivious one?” asked Blaise.

Julius’ smirk widened impossibly. “Liam Bassenthwaite,” he said.

Myra snorted. “Liam Bassenthwaite? The girl’s stupid enough to fall for the biggest womaniser at Hogwarts?” she asked.

“Apparently,” said Julius. “Guess it’s true what they say about the goody-goody ones falling for the bad boys.”

Myra started to laugh, and even Vera couldn’t help but giggle at that. “That’s priceless,” she said.

“Tell me about him,” said Jill.

“Old family. Neutral. Like Greengrass and Marchand neutral,” said Ciel. “Liam’s the youngest of three sons. He’s an average student but he more than makes up for it with social capital. The Bassenthwaite family is mostly involved with real estate and is quite wealthy. That goes a long way when it comes to drawing in girls.”

“Not to mention, he’s handsome as hell,” said Myra. When everyone stared at her, she held up her hands. “Hey, it’s true. You’d be blind to deny it.”

“Point is,” said Ciel, shaking his head at Myra. “He comes from money and is charming.”

“How would he feel about...persuading Miss Sainsbury to share confidential information?” asked Jill delicately.

Jason snorted at the way she phrased it. “I’m sure he’ll find a way to...persuade her,” he said, smothering a laugh.

Jill rolled her eyes at him. “I am not doubting his capabilities. I’m asking if he would do it,” she said.

“I can ask,” said Myra. “He is not the biggest fan of authority and if he gets to knock Sainsbury off her high horse, he’d be more than willing.”

“Do it,” said Jill. “We don’t want to waste our gold on Sainsbury if she will blab to her lover.” Myra nodded in agreement, and Jill turned to Ciel. “Isn’t one of your sisters in fourth year?”

“Yes,” he said. “Catarina. She’s in Ravenclaw.”

“What are the chances of her becoming a prefect next year?” asked Jill.

“Pretty good, I’d say,” said Ciel.

“Good,” said Jill. “Encourage her towards that end.”

“Of course,” said Ciel.

“Speaking of, we should also look into our House and our potentials for next year,” said Jill.

“I’ll look into it,” said Hector, as Vera nodded along.

“We still need people in Hufflepuff,” said Jill.

“I’ll ask my sister, Calliope, to keep an eye out,” said Ciel. “She’s only a second year but she’s got a good head on her shoulder. It was a miracle she wasn’t a Slytherin.”

“Good to know,” said Jill. “The Gryffindors are tough to crack but I’m working on Granger. Speaking of Gryffindors, what do we know of the Weasleys?”

“Which ones?” asked Hector.

“Forget the youngest,” said Jill. “He follows Longbottom like a puppy which tells me everything I need to know about him. The other three.”

“The twins are a nuisance more than anything, but I think they’re smarter than people give them credit,” said Ciel thoughtfully.

“Can we sway them?” asked Jill. “What do they need?”

“If they’re Weasleys, they need gold,” said Blaise. 

“But they’re also ridiculously honourable so we can’t bribe them with it,” said Jason. “Besides, they hate Slytherin.”

“The prefect might be slightly easier to sway,” said Vera. “He thirsts for power, that one. Given the right motivation, he’d sell out his own family.”

“Keep an eye on him,” said Jill. “I’d love to have a spy in that family. As for the others, there are other ways to win people like them over.” She glanced at her watch. “Anything on Snape, Jason?”

Jason frowned and shook his head. “I tried to inquire with the Wizengamot records but my access was denied,” he said.

“Wait, they denied access to court records?” asked Vera, shocked.

“I know,” said Jason, looking equally perplexed.

“I take it that’s not regular,” said Jill.

“Not at all,” said Ciel, narrowing his eyes. “Snape was a Hogwarts Professor. His trial should have been public and the Daily Prophet should have been talking about it for months to come. But there hasn’t been a peep since the first report back in summer.”

“That is definitely not normal,” said Daphne. “Do we know someone inside the Prophet?”

“I do,” said Hector. “I’ll send off a letter tonight.”

“What about the Wizengamot?” asked Jill.

“Honestly, you might be our best bet in that regard, Jill,” said Ciel. “How many seats do you have anyway?”

“Two, that I know of,” said Jill. “I might have more after my meeting on Saturday.”

“I’d suggest naming a proxy for your seats if you want your name kept out of it,” said Ciel, and Julius and Blaise immediately nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Jill. “So, we know nothing about Snape?”

“Looks like it so far,” frowned Jason. “We just have to keep looking.”

“Right,” said Jill. “So, Julius, Myra, I want you to take care of the Sainsbury business. Vera, I need your attention on Saturday’s excursion, and keep an eye on the prefect Weasley. Hector, look into the Prophet and our potential prefects for next year. Jason, you’re heading the Snape thing. Use whatever resources you need and ask if there’s anything I can do. Daphne, I have taken what you said into consideration, and I would like to receive a summary of important matters every morning. Blaise, I want you to start training with Ciel and I.”

Blaise looked surprised, as did Ciel. Jill looked between them. “Blaise, if you are to have my back, you have to be trained just as well, if not better than me,” she said. “Is that a problem, Ciel?”

“Not at all,” he said. 

Blaise nodded in agreement as well. “I’ll be happy to do it,” he said.

“I’ll draft a plan and diet for you too,” said Ciel.

“Give it to Spritzy and she’ll make sure Blaise follows it,” said Jill. “I also need all of you to keep your eyes and ears open during the week. We need to gauge how the Malfoy-Parkinson thing plays out and if we need to take additional steps to convince any more people. Is there anything else?”

“I think that should be it,” said Jason, looking around at the rest of them, who nodded.

“Excellent,” said Jill. “Thank you everyone. Have a good night.”

~

The rest of the week passed quite quickly. Ciel trained with Jill and Blaise in the morning before breakfast, and Jill was surprised at Blaise’s skills. Though not as good as Ciel, Blaise certainly held his own when Ciel duelled him to gauge his skill level. He was leagues ahead of Jill in terms of duelling, and it was pushing her to better herself, knowing that Blaise was the same age as her and already better.

After their training, they would go to breakfast, where Daphne would have a summary of current events waiting for Jill. It was how Jill learned about an attempted break-in at Gringotts, which roused suspicion in her mind. She decided to leave it with Daphne and Hector to be investigated.

The fallout from the Malfoy-Parkinson thing also became apparent throughout the week. Though there was nothing explicitly stated, Malfoy and his cabal was getting the cold shoulder from the entire House. Malfoy appeared unconcerned for the most part, muttering to his own cronies at meals or in the common room, but Parkinson looked like the loss in popularity had hit her hard. Davis reported that Pansy was unhappy with Draco, and was growing closer to Davis and Moon.

They also had their first flying lesson on Thursday, and it was uneventful for the most part until Longbottom and Malfoy got in a stupid broom race and ended up crashing. Longbottom broke his wrist and Malfoy fractured his tailbone when he landed awkwardly on the ground. Both received detention and lost twenty points apiece for stupidity. Jill did take the time to observe Longbottom, and realised that despite his bravado, he displayed moments of deep insecurity. She made a mental note of it, deciding to keep an eye on him.

Jill also heard about Liam Bassenthwaite and Charlotte Sainsbury dating, which made her smile. She caught a glimpse of them taking a walk around the lake on Wednesday, and when Liam saw her, he gave the tiniest nod in her direction. 

During their Potions lessons, Slughorn had started deferring to Jill more and more, and she couldn’t tell if it annoyed Longbottom or Malfoy more. She did have a conversation with her council to keep an eye on Slughorn as well.

“But he’s on your side,” said Myra.

“Yes, but he’s also easy to manipulate,” countered Jill. “If I can do it, others can too.”

Spritzy had been given the task of keeping an eye on Slughorn. For a Potions Master, Slughorn was not nearly as paranoid as he should have been. Through Spritzy, Jill also learned his favourite goods of luxury, and made a note to have them on hand as gifts when she needed favours.

Before they knew it, Saturday was dawning on them. Jill, Ciel and Blaise woke up early and ate a heavy breakfast prepared by Spritzy. Around eight, Vera came to fetch them. The four of them left the common room together and headed deeper into the dungeons which housed unused classrooms that hadn’t been occupied in centuries. Vera guided them down a long hallway that ended in a massive fireplace that might have once been a floo spot. She stopped in front of the fireplace and ran her hand along the stones of the carved hearth. 

When she touched the right one, there was sound of shifting rocks, and the floor of the fireplace slid open to reveal a tunnel hidden under it. 

“It’s a forty minute walk to Hogsmeade. The portkey to Diagon Alley will activate five minutes after that,” said Vera. “Good luck.”

Ciel jumped down first and used a lumos spell to light the tip of his wand. Jill and Blaise followed suit, and they saw Vera close off the secret entrance above their heads. The tunnel was just wide enough for them to walk in a single file, and tall enough that Ciel only had to duck his head slightly as they walked. Exactly forty minutes later, they emerged out in the alleyway behind Scrivenshaft’s. They just had enough time to brush any stray dirt off their clothes and hair before the quill in Ciel’s hand started to glow. Jill and Blaise reached out and touched it, and seconds later, all three of them vanished from Hogsmeade and arrived in Diagon Alley.

Thankfully, it was pouring rain in London and not many people were around, so their arrival was missed. Jill lifted the hood of her casual blue robes to hide her face and protect herself from the rain. Gringotts was only a quick walk away and by the time they reached the steps, they were all a little bit soaked.

“Allow me,” said Ciel, drawing his wand and performing drying charms on all three of them. “Shall we wait for you here?” he asked.

“Yes,” said Jill, lowering her hood and straightening her shoulders. “I won’t be long.”

Ciel and Blaise nodded and took shelter from the rain as Jill walked into the bank alone. She had written to the goblins to have a meeting with the bank’s manager and they’d accepted, though Jill could feel the condescension even through the letter.

The bank was not as full as Jill had first seen it, and she found the free goblin closest to her and handed over the reply letter to him. “I have an appointment with Head Goblin Gunotz.”

The goblin examined the letter and said something in a harsh language to the goblin next to him. “Follow him,” he said, giving the letter back to Jill.

Jill nodded and followed the other goblin through a door which led to a long hallway full of doors on either side. The goblin led her to the very last door in the hallway and then knocked sharply.

The door opened and the goblin who had led her poked his head in and muttered something Jill didn’t understand. 

“Inside,” he said, pushing the door open and looking at Jill.

Jill walked in, and the goblin closed the door and left. In front of her was an ornate desk, behind which sat an elderly goblin dressed in shimmering gold robes. 

“Head Goblin Gunotz,” bowed Jill. “I am Jill Potter.”

“I am aware,” he said, acknowledging her bow with a quick one of his own. “Your request was highly unusual, Miss Potter. Please sit down.”

“Thank you,” said Jill, taking a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “As you know, I am an orphan. It was brought to my attention that it would be a good idea to examine my bloodline. Just to be sure.”

Gunotz smiled indulgently. “You do realise that the ritual you are asking for is quite expensive,” he said.

“And you know that I can afford it,” said Jill, realising that he thought her a fool for throwing her money away.

“Of course,” he said. “Well, shall we begin then?” He pulled out a short dagger with a dark onyx blade and hilt studded with rubies, and what looked like a crystal ball with the top broken off. “We need blood,” he grinned, handing her the blade.

Jill took the blade and stood up. Steeling herself, she made a cut on her palm and held it above the broken crystal ball. Blood dripped into it, turning the crystal ball bright crimson and then black. She handed the blade back, surprised to see that the cut had healed and there was no blood on the blade either. Gunotz drew out a long, feathery quill and dipped it into the crystal ball, muttering a spell under his breath. He let go of the quill, but it remained standing in the crystal ball. 

Then suddenly, it flew out and went to the blank scroll of parchment on the desk and started scribbling. A few times the quill went back to dip itself in the crystal ball and continued writing. The longer it wrote, the more Gunotz’s expression changed. Where once had been condescension and amusement, was now a look of surprise and almost...joy. After twenty silent minutes, the quill finally went slack. Once it did, Gunotz picked up the parchment and held up a monocle to read it.

“Well?” asked Jill, having sat back down.

“I must apologise for my earlier words, Miss Potter,” said Gunotz, looking up at her. “It appears you were right to request this ritual. As per your blood and your magic, you have considerably more inheritances than the Potter and Black family.”

“I assume Peverell is one of them,” said Jill.

“For starters, yes,” said Gunotz. “It will take some time to track down all of these and their statuses in terms of vaults and other assets.”

“How much time?” asked Jill.

“A week, at the very least,” said Gunotz. “That’s assuming we ask the Ministry for help. Otherwise, it would be close to three weeks.”

“Take the three weeks,” said Jill. “I want this to be kept off the Ministry’s radar for now.”

Gunotz nodded. “I understand,” he said. “I know it will be difficult for you to make this trip again so we could communicate through Owl Post if you are certain it will be secure.”

“I have my house elf keeping an eye on my mail,” said Jill. “It will be safe.”

“Excellent,” said Gunotz. “I will get a team of goblins on this right away.”

Jill stood up and bowed. “Thank you, Head Goblin Gunotz,” she said. “I await your letter.”

Gunotz stood too and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Miss Potter,” he said. “I’ll hold off on the other titles until we are certain how many of them you have.” Jill smiled and nodded, turning to leave. “Allow me to escort you,” said Gunotz, surprising her.

Apparently, it was a surprise to other goblins too as they watched Gunotz and Jill walk out. Jill swore she saw the respect rise in the eyes of the goblins by the time she made it to the doors. With a final bow to Gunotz, Jill drew up her hood and walked outside. The rain had stopped, and she found Ciel and Blaise talking quietly on the steps. They stopped when they saw her approach.

“How did it go?” asked Blaise, as they set off towards their next destination.

“Better than I expected,” said Jill. “We’ll hear more in a few weeks.”

“That’s an unusually long time,” frowned Ciel.

“They are keeping the Ministry out of it,” said Jill.

“That’s smart,” nodded Blaise. “Where are we going next, Ciel?”

“Just through here,” said Ciel, as they turned into Knockturn Alley. “Stick close to me.”

The three of them headed down the dark, dingy alley into a shabby corner shop that had no signs in the front. In fact, it looked like it was boarded up and abandoned. But Ciel led them right to it, and knocked four times, paused and knocked three more times. A few seconds passed until the boarded up door shimmered slightly, turning transparent. Ciel walked right through it, beckoning Blaise and Jill to follow.

They did and emerged into a warm, well-lit interior of a shop. A tiny witch with dishwater blonde hair and cloudy grey eyes regarded them over the tip of her pointy nose as they walked in.

“Master Ciel,” she greeted sharply. “You’ve brought guests.”

“I have, Madame Bellice,” said Ciel. “Allow me to introduce Miss Jillian Potter and Mr. Blaise Zabini.”

Jill and Blaise lowered their hoods and bowed in unison. Madame Bellice sniffed once and nodded. “Very well,” she said. “Do you have their specifications?”

“I do,” said Ciel, drawing out two pieces of parchment from his robes.

Madame Bellice walked up to him and took it. She read them briefly, glancing at Jill and Blaise every so often before finally nodding. “We can do the fittings and I’ll have them ready by the middle of October,” she said.

“Excellent,” said Ciel. “The usual method of payment?”

“Yes,” said Madame Bellice. “Mr. Zabini, you’re first. This way, please.”

Exchanging a slightly confused look with Jill, Blaise followed Madame Bellice to the back of the shop and into another room. Jill turned to Ciel when they were gone. “What were the specifications?” she asked.

“They were the observations I wrote down about your strengths and weaknesses,” he said. “For example, you’re right handed, so you shield with your left. Which means the armour on your right arm will be lighter to allow your movements to be freer. The armour on your left will be thicker, to allow for proper shielding. There’s other things as well, and Madame Bellice will take all of that and your measurements into account to custom build the armour for you.”

“And the payment?” asked Jill. “What’s the payment?”

Ciel chuckled. “The old biddy enjoys a good Zinfandel, and I have an aunt in the colonies who is happy to export a crate. No one in my family has a taste for it, but it keeps Madame Bellice happy,” he explained.

Jill smiled, as Blaise emerged out of the back room with Madame Bellice. “Your turn, Miss Potter,” said Madame Bellice.

With a nod, Jill went after her into the back room, which was a fitting room of sorts. Madame Bellice closed the door and locked it.

“Take off your robes and cloak,” she said.

Jill stripped down to her black leggings and white camisole and stood up on the fitting platform. The magical tape measure started taking the measurements as Madame Bellice wrote down the results on a long piece of parchment.

“Do you want the armour to reveal your gender?” she asked, looking at Jill over the top of the parchment.

“What?” asked Jill.

“I can make the armour’s front conceal what’s underneath,” she said. “It will hide your gender and allow you to keep your identity a secret when you wear a mask. You might have to use chest binders when you start growing but I can provide them when needed.”

“I’d like that,” said Jill, seeing the genius in the idea. The people expected the Prince of Slytherin, and what better than to have the Prince seen as a man. “About the crest, could I have the Slytherin crest instead of the Potter one?” she asked.

Madame Bellice looked a little surprised, but nodded. “I’ll make a note of it. I’d also suggest finding ways to tie your hair up so it can be hidden under the mask,” she said. “You can get dressed back.”

Jill nodded and out her robes and cloak back on before following Madame Bellice out to where Ciel and Blaise were waiting.

“Everything in order?” asked Ciel.

“Yes,” said Madame Bellice. “That’ll be two crates of the wine, do you understand?”

“They will be delivered by day’s end,” said Ciel.

Madame Bellice gave a nod. “I’ll send the armour in a few weeks,” she said.

“Thank you,” said Ciel, and bowed. Jill and Blaise added their own bows and thanks, as they raised their hoods once more and headed out of the shop. Behind them, the doors were once again boarded up. “We have about half an hour until the portkey is ready to take us back,” he said, as they emerged back into Diagon Alley. “Is there anything else either of you need?”

“Better not risk it,” said Jill. “We don’t want people wondering why we aren’t at Hogwarts.”

Blaise agreed, and so the three of them waited in a quiet part of the Alley in mostly silence. When the portkey was ready, they touched it and were back in Hogsmeade instantaneously. Forty minutes after that they were climbing out of the fireplace in the dungeons. It was just around time for lunch, so they headed to the Slytherin common room for a quick wash and then to the Great Hall for lunch.

“Everything go well?” asked Daphne, when Blaise and Jill slipped into seats near her, while Ciel went and found his own friends.

“Yes,” answered Jill. “What about here?”

“Just fine,” said Daphne. “We kept an eye on the usual suspects but no suspicion was aroused.”

Jill nodded in satisfaction. “Good,” she said. “Very good.”


	5. Chapter 5

Hector Runcorn was in his OWL year. He had started the year like any other, bored and uninterested for the most part. His relationship with his father was as difficult as ever, and with Albert pestering his son about a career in the Ministry, the two butted heads more often than not. The Runcorn family was not part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and until a century ago, it was barely anything worth mentioning.

Then, Hector’s grandfather had struck gold through sheer dumb luck by discovering a counter charm for entrancing enchantments, and suddenly the Runcorn family had a lot of clout to throw around. Albert had capitalised on it to get a top-ranking position at the Ministry. However, Hector’s interests lay elsewhere. 

Hector was good at keeping his eyes open and his mouth shut, and information interested him. He was also a fan of using the right information for his purposes. The Daily Prophet would be an ideal outlet for it. Influencing an entire nation to think the way he wanted them to, was exactly what Hector desired to have. His father, on the other hand, was small-minded and thought his son wanted to be a mere journalist. They’d had a huge fight before Hector had returned to school for his OWL year with Albert threatening to disown him by Yule if he didn’t obey his wishes.

He knew his father wouldn’t go through with it because his mother would talk him out of it, but it did build his resolve up even further to get exactly what he wanted. He wasn’t even paying attention during the ceremony when Jill Potter had been sorted into Slytherin. It was later that night when he and Vera were looking over the list of new first years in their house that he noticed her name. 

“The Potter girl? A Slytherin?” he asked, skeptically.

“She’s either going to be a spy or the next dark lord,” said Vera, only half-joking.

He had laughed at that, and the matter had been laid to rest. Then, rumours had started at lunch the next day about Potter and Longbottom butting heads. That had certainly got his attention, but he still wasn’t convinced when Vera, Jason and Myra suggested holding the trial for the Prince. Personally, Hector thought that the young Malfoy would have it in the bag because of his father, but then magic had chosen Potter, and Hector had been shocked to say the least.

He had still been unsure, until he had seen Potter in action. Despite her age, she was clever, cunning and very, very aware of things around her. Hector found himself reluctantly admiring her resolve as the days went on, and soon it became clear that magic had chosen the Prince of Slytherin very wisely. And Hector realised very quickly that she was the ticket to his goal. Being a part of her council would grant him access, and her influence could ultimately put him right where he wanted to be.

With that in mind, Hector fell in line and swore fealty to Jill Potter. It was his best option, after all.

~

The middle child of the pureblood Lancaster family, Vera was considered as intelligent as she was beautiful. With her thick brown hair, big green eyes and charming smile, Vera won hearts over quite easily, even as her over-achieving personality kept people from getting close to her. An older brother who was Head Boy in his day and was likely to inherit the family fortune, and a younger brother who was only ten but already a prodigy when it came to flying, Vera knew she had to establish her own path and name.

Her parents were never Death Eaters but were openly supportive of the Dark Lord during his days of power. Vera had been too young to remember it properly but she recalled people her parents had called friends who were later tried for being Death Eaters. Granted most of them managed to dodge incarceration, it was still a matter of shame for someone like her who placed appearance beyond everything. She made up her mind to set herself apart from her family and become something beyond a sullied family name.

To that end, Vera worked hard to become a prefect, and to excel at her academics. She succeeded on both fronts, though she was still in the process of figuring out a way to set herself apart. And then Jill Potter was sorted into Slytherin.

Despite Hector’s reluctance, Vera thought Jill was more than met the eye at first glance. A confrontation with Longbottom later, Vera was certain that Jill was the ideal candidate for the Prince. Hearing that Malfoy had also chosen to threaten her and found himself put soundly back in his place had only cemented her certainty.

They had not prepared for a magically chosen Prince, but Vera had been absurdly pleased. If ever there was a sign that Vera’s instincts were right, it had been this. After the initial shock, Vera had been happy to discover that Jill was capable and willing to abide by her mantle. Vera admired the younger girl’s drive, and found herself thinking of her like a sister, more than even her own brothers.

Vera also found herself breaking the rules for the first time in her life for Jill’s sake. After a lifetime of gaining knowledge but never using it to her gain, Vera had discovered her true Slytherin side. Smuggling Jill out of Hogwarts, using Dawlish’s credentials to make illegal portkeys, using the secret passageways her brother had bragged about were all little ways she had already broken the rules, and it was exhilarating to be able to be useful to the leader she admired.

Before this, Vera hadn’t considered a career in politics, but now, she was certainly intrigued at the possibility. It would be an interesting talk when she had to meet with Professor Slughorn to pick her career before the OWLs. 

A very interesting talk indeed.

~

Jason Whitman always got what he wanted. It was the advantage of being the only son of a rich pureblood family with neutral ties. His family’s business was based in America for the most part, and the frequent threats in Britain had not been able to touch it. His parents divided their time between America and Britain, which meant that Jason was on his own more often than not.

Years of this had done well to make Jason independent. He was also well-aware of his own good looks and substantial fortunes, and he was frequently bored at the lack of challenges that a mind like his required to stay interested. In another lifetime, he would have been the ideal candidate to be the Prince, but Jason preferred to follow, rather than lead. 

He was the first one to hear about Jill Potter’s confrontation with Longbottom. He had already thought the girl was interesting, but that confirmed it for him. A quick conversation with her told him that she had the potential for the mantle of the Prince, and he was glad to have support from his fellow prefects. The seventh year prefects, Verna Bole and Paul Merrick, were the reluctant ones, but considering the fact that Bole was thicker than a troll and Merrick couldn’t tell his arse from a tea kettle, their opinions were promptly ignored. Hector Runcorn was also reluctant, but he was also in favour of waiting to see the events as they transpired rather than making a rash call. It was an attitude Jason admired, even if he didn’t agree with it.

Nobody was as smug about Jill’s ascension to the mantle of the Prince as Jason. Except Vera, perhaps. For his part, Jason was happy that his last two years at Hogwarts would be anything but dull if the past few weeks had been to judge. 

And he, for one, couldn’t wait for it.

~

Unlike her fellow prefects, Myra Robbins was not an ambitious person. Being a half blood, she had learned to set low expectations for herself, knowing that her options were going to be limited in what she could get in terms of status and position. Yet, it didn’t mean she was an idiot by any stretch of the imagination.

She had her sights set on Nathan Rivers from Ravenclaw, a pureblood heir to the Rivers family fortune from Dorset. The Rivers family had their fingers in several pies, but they were most notably known for owning the Quidditch team, Puddlemere United. Nathan was the third of four sons, a shy and studious boy, without a lot of friends. By the time Myra had been in her second year, she had scoped out the rich, eligible boys in her cohort, and finally narrowed her attentions on Nathan. 

When she was in her third year, Myra had become Nathan’s best and only friend. She had eventually given the push for them to start dating in their fifth year. Nathan was devoted to her, choosing to spoil her endlessly and she took full advantage of it. There was no remorse to her actions, knowing that this was the only way she could distance herself from her blood status and establish herself into wizarding society. Being the wife of a third son wasn’t the best thing ever, but she would still be a part of the Rivers family, and would likely live a life of wealth and comfort.

Assisting the Prince of Slytherin would divert from her goal, but Myra was enjoying it. It was a reprieve from spending time with Nathan, who was sweet but utterly boring. The fact that she got to be privy to people’s secrets and use it against them was just a bonus.

Myra was a true Slytherin through and through, and there was no part of her that regretted that.

~

Ciel Marchand considered two things to be more important than anything: family and duty. He felt his father failed both when he let himself go after the death of his wife. The once-proud Marchand name was now an embarrassment in the wizarding society, thanks to his father.

Ciel would still have forgiven it, had it not been for the way his father treated him and his sisters. It hadn’t been as bad when Ciel was at home, because he could see the signs of his father’s drunkenness and hear the tinkling laughter of whatever whore he had brought home that night, and take his sisters and hide them away so they wouldn’t have to witness the debauchery their father was engaging in. Once Ciel went to Hogwarts, he knew that Catarina took over protecting herself and Calliope, but when Ciel returned at Yule of his first year, he could see the disgust and coolness in Catarina’s gaze whenever she looked at their father. Ciel would have given anything to keep his sisters away from the ugliness of it all, but at eleven, he was helpless.

Six years later, he was only a few weeks shy of turning seventeen, and he had used the years to plan. The only trouble was what would happen once his father was dead. Even if the Ministry and the Wizengamot didn’t try and pursue him for it, the rest of the wizarding society would be aware of what he did, and Ciel would make no difference to his family’s image. The arrival of Jill Potter had been a blessing in disguise in that sense, even before her ascension as the Prince of Slytherin.

He had been debating how to approach her when one of her council had come to him with a request of training her. Ciel had seized his chance and made his request, which she had granted after some thought. Not just that, she had gone above and beyond by acknowledging him as the rightful Head of the Marchand family.

Ciel was not his father, and he was determined to restore the Marchand family to its rightful place in wizarding society, no matter what.

And he would start by doing his duty to the Potter family.

~

“If you want to know where the skeletons are buried, ask the Vaisey family.”

Julius grew up hearing those words, and sometimes, even he found it amusing how people thought it was the Vaisey family who was so capable, when in fact, it was the women who married into the Vaisey family that were so good at doing what the family was known for. His father was incompetent at best, and a downright idiot at worst. Julius’ older brother was no different, preferring Quidditch over the family business.

It was his mother who was the mastermind. Patricia Vaisey nee Burke was intelligent, shrewd and sharper than anyone Julius knew. She had been trained by her mother-in-law, the older Vaisey matriarch, who had passed away only a year ago. In turn, Patricia was now training Julius, knowing he took after her, not his father. 

Julius loved it. Knowing people’s secrets was a thrill he couldn’t describe, and he admired the detailed records that had been compiled by his family for generations. It had fallen into disuse during Voldemort’s rise to power, and Julius would often hear his mother say how much Grandma Vaisey disliked the Dark Lord, even as the Vaisey family stayed neutral.

“Rulers are meant to be civilised,” she would say. “You rule from the shadows, you pull the strings. Not go on a killing rampage like a blithering idiot.”

Julius personally agreed with that. It was also why he never complained about the long hours his mother would spend coaching him about the family business and how he should conduct himself. Even at eleven, Julius was wiser and more aware of the world than his father.

He knew that Draco Malfoy would also start the same year as him, and Julius was prepared for the possibility of being asked to join his council. Then the curveball called Jill Potter had hit, and Julius had been pleased about it. Malfoy hadn’t impressed him. From his first impression on the Hogwarts Express, he reminded Julius of his father. But Jill? Jill was like his mother. Shrewd, cunning, closed off, but most importantly, willing to listen to her council but capable of leading them just the same.

She was a leader. The kind of leader that Grandma Vaisey had described.

It only made sense to follow her.

~

Daphne Greengrass was good at many things, but above all, she was good at recognising people who needed to be cared for. It came from a lifetime of an absent father and a cruel stepmother, and an innocent younger sister who needed protecting. She had seen a kindred spirit in Jill, when they’d met in Diagon Alley. Over the summer, the two had grown closer, and Daphne realised that her first impression of Jill had been right on the nose.

Raised an orphan, Jill was closed off and reserved in many ways just like Daphne. However, while Jill had been alone, Daphne had Astoria. Even if Jill hadn’t become the Prince, Daphne would have still considered her to be like a sister to her, and it was constantly surprising to her when Jill seemed to return that sentiment through her insistence of not treating her friends like her lackeys.

Daphne knew that no matter what happened, she would always consider Jill to be family.

~

Blaise Zabini didn’t place a lot of importance on people. It was a value instilled in him by his mother. People tended to bore him, but from the moment he had seen Jill Potter, he had been a little intrigued. She had been on the verge of a panic attack when he’d first seen her, and it had been almost amusing to help her out.

Then later at Hogwarts, he had heard her annoyed whisper about Longbottom, and that amusement had grown, intriguing him further. Jill Potter was fascinating, and for the first time in his life, Blaise was finding himself interested in someone other than himself and his mother. By extension, it had started to include Greengrass as well. 

As the days progressed, it had gone from a mere interest to something akin to protectiveness towards her. Her position, while a great honour that was deserved, would bring a lot of enemies her way, and Blaise didn’t even hesitate before volunteering himself as her protector. She continued to surprise him by granting him the courtesy of building his skills, and having had no one but his mother be so considerate of him, Blaise knew that Jill Potter would always be special to him.

His only hope was to never let her down.

~

The rest of the weekend after her visit to Gringotts was quiet for the most part. It was on the Monday after it that there was bombshell that reached Jill’s ears. Apparently, Longbottom was the new Gryffindor seeker.

“Give me a break,” muttered Jason, shaking his head at the Gryffindor table that was celebrating. “Didn’t he break his wrist last week?”

“You’re basing it on the assumption he got the position based on his skills,” said Blaise, rolling his eyes.

“It might not be a bad thing,” said Jill, and half the table looked at her incredulously. She smiled at them. “Wouldn’t you rather face an idiot who broke his wrist flying than someone with actual talent?”

The people around her began to chuckle, and even Flint was grinning at that. Jill returned to her breakfast as the spirit rose amongst the House once more at their Prince’s words. She looked up briefly when she saw Liam Bassenthwaite pass a suspiciously thick copy of the Daily Prophet to Julius, who took it and then gave Jill a pointed look. Jill nodded slightly, as the newspaper made its way to Daphne and then to Jill.

She took the folded up scrolls of parchment from the newspaper and stuffed it into her bag, letting the newspaper fall onto the table. No doubt there was something pertinent that had happened in the Heads’ meeting that morning, since Liam had felt the need to pass the information on immediately. She managed to hold off until they were in Charms, during which she read through it quickly, while Daphne and Blaise made sure that no one was paying too much attention to her.

Jill almost missed it at first glance because the meeting was going on and on about the high number of students who had been put in detention in the last few weeks, until she read that most of those students had been found snooping in the forbidden third floor corridor. And then a few moments later, Slughorn had asked if ‘it’ was still safe and if they had disturbed any of the traps, only to have him shushed with a pointed look towards the students in the room.

Making a note to send something really nice to Liam Bassenthwaite, Jill folded up the information and put it away in her bag. 

“Good?” whispered Blaise in her ear.

“Very,” she said.

It seemed that the day’s surprises weren’t done, when at lunch, Hector passed her another envelope, this one thicker than the one in the morning. She raised her eyebrows at him, and Hector mouthed the word ‘Snape’ to her. Unfortunately, Jill didn’t have time to read it before the last two classes for the day, and it kept her distracted throughout them. She begged off studying with Hermione that evening, choosing to meet with her council immediately after dinner. Hermione seemed surprised and a little saddened, but agreed. Jill decided to make it up to her later.

Inside the Prince’s quarters, Jill and her council sat as Hector opened the envelope that Jill returned to him and began reading out loud.

_Wizengamot Records  
Ministry of Magic_

_Minister of Magic: The Honourable Cornelius Oswald Fudge  
Supreme Mugwump: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore  
Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement: Amelia Elizabeth Bones_

_Subject on trial: Severus Tobias Snape_

_Charges: Five counts of murder, six counts of torture with the Cruciatus Curse, eight counts of illegal use of the Imperius Curse on highly ranked Ministry officials, affiliations with the Dark Lord known as Lord Voldemort, two counts of conspiracy to commit murder which resulted in the deaths of Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom, and James and Lily Potter_

Hector stopped reading and looked up. The council stared at Jill in horror, whose face was cold.

“Jill?” asked Daphne gently. 

“Keep reading,” snapped Jill. 

“Yes, my Prince,” said Hector.

_Witness for the prosecution: Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Witness for the defence: None_

__

_Special interrogation notes: Defendant was supposed to be dosed with Veritaserum, but he seems to have imbued himself with the antidote and developed a resistance_

_Case transcript_

_Minister Fudge [F]: Severus Snape, your charges have been read to you. How do you plead?”_

_Severus Snape [S]: Not guilty, Minister. On any of the charges._

_F: I would have thought you’d have the decency to accept the charges and take responsibility for your crimes. Since that does not seem to be a possibility anymore, this trial will have to go on. Madame Bones, you have the floor._

_Amelia Bones [A]: Thank you, Minister. The prosecution calls our sole witness, Albus Dumbledore to be sworn in._

_F: Permission granted. Professor Dumbledore, approach the witness stand._

_Albus Dumbledore [D]: Thank you, Minister. I swear upon my magic to tell the truth, and nothing but the truth._

_A: Thank you, Professor Dumbledore. How long have you known the defendant Severus Snape?”_

_D: Since he was 11 years old. I was the Headmaster at Hogwarts when he first came to the school._

_A: And you knew him throughout his years of schooling?_

_D: I did, yes._

_A: And did he not have several disciplinary incidents involving the use of dark curses within the school?_

_D: He did, yes._

_A: Minister, at this point, I would like to submit the Hogwarts school records detailing Severus Snape’s list of disciplinary actions for the Wizengamot_

_F: Thank you, Madame Bones. Proceed._

_A: In addition, several of Severus Snape’s friends and roommates were found guilty of being Death Eaters. I have a complete list here. You will notice that several of them even named Snape as a Death Eater, but without credible proof, we could not proceed._

_F: We have the document, Madame Bones. As your own counsel, Mr. Snape, do you wish to challenge any of this?_

_S: No._

_F: Very well. Madame Bones, do go ahead._

_A: Thank you, Minister. Professor Dumbledore, were you aware of these accusations against Mr. Snape when you hired him as the Potions Master at Hogwarts?_

_D: I was aware, yes._

_A: Then why was he hired?_

_D: Like you, Madame Bones, I lacked credible proof. Taking convicted Death Eaters at their words is not my practice._

_A: Fair enough. Can you recount for the Wizengamot the events of previous week?_

_D: Certainly. We have a staff gathering at Hogwarts a month before school commences for the new year in September._

_A: And the gathering was last week?_

_D: On Wednesday, yes. Mr. Snape was invited, since he was part of the staff._

_A: And what happened?_

_D: He requested a private meeting with me after the gathering. We met in my office._

_A: And he confessed to the crimes he has been charged with?_

_S: Objection, Madame Bones._

_F: What is it, Mr. Snape?_

_S: Madame Bones is erroneous in her question. I did not confess to the crimes I am charged with._

_A: Are you denying that the meeting took place?_

_S: Certainly not. Nor am I denying the fact that I did confess to certain crimes to Professor Dumbledore_

_F: Mr. Snape, stop wasting the Wizengamot’s time_

_S: I would never dare. I am merely pointing out that the crimes I confessed to are not the same ones that I have been charged with._

_A: Professor Dumbledore, what crimes did Mr. Snape confess to?_

_D: He confessed to several counts of murder and the use of Cruciatus and Imperius curses on several parties. He also confessed to committing conspiracy to the murders on Halloween of 1981._

_F: I fail to see the difference in crimes, Mr. Snape_

_S: The difference is rather subtle, Minister. I did not commit conspiracy to murder James and Lily Potter_

_A: Are you confessing to the murders to Frank and Alice Longbottom?_

_S: Confessing to conspiracy to commit their murder, yes. But not the Potters_

_F: That is inconsequential. The rest of the charges still stand. All those in favour of convicting the accused-_

_S: All due respect, Minister, I wish to speak about who was indeed responsible for the deaths of the Potters at the hands of the Dark Lord. Not to mention, the same person also_

REDACTED

REDACTED

REDACTED

REDACTED

REDACTED

_F: This Wizengamot session is over. Elders and Madames, have a good day._

__

__

End of transcript

“What in the world? Why is it redacted?” asked Myra.

“Let me see that,” said Ciel and examined the document closely. “Oh, no.”

“What?” asked Jill, still reeling from the revelations.

“They have been magically redacted by the Wizengamot,” said Ciel. “The only people who know those contents were people who were present in the Wizengamot chamber that day.”

“So we have to find someone who was in that room to know?” asked Julius, his eyes calculating.

Vera shook her head. “You can try and find them, but they won’t be able to help you,” she said. “The redaction was sealed with magic. They cannot speak of it to anyone, no matter how much they wanted to. They have been sworn to secrecy.”

Jill’s jaw clenched and she looked away. “Great,” she said sarcastically. “So, there’s no way to know.”

“There is one way,” said Blaise, his eyes glittering.

“What?” asked Jason, as Jill looked hopeful.

Blaise smirked. “You ask the person who already knew before going into the Wizengamot chamber,” he said.

Jill’s eyes went wide. “Severus Snape.”

“Problem is, we don’t know where he is,” said Daphne.

“Shouldn’t he be in Azkaban?” asked Myra.

“With those charges? I’m surprised he wasn’t given the Kiss,” said Jason.

“How did you get this information, Hector?” asked Julius.

“Someone from the Prophet got their hands on the transcript, albeit the redacted one, but I’m assuming that couldn’t be helped,” he said. “I merely said the Prince of Slytherin needed it, and it was delivered to me quite quickly.”

“Risky move throwing the title around,” said Jason, raising his eyebrows.

“No, it’s fine,” said Jill. “Is that something you want to do, Hector? Work at the Prophet?”

Hector was acutely aware of the rest of the council’s eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on Jill. “Yes,” he said, his voice steady. “The press is an important aspect of influencing society. And I want to be a part of it. Preferably a big part of it.”

Jill paused contemplatively. “Do you have a pseudonym?” she asked.

Hector looked surprised. “No,” he said.

“Get one,” said Jill. “I believe it’s time we started being a part of the important aspect of influencing society, as you put it.”

“I think you broke him,” giggled Myra, when Hector continued to stare at Jill in incredulity.

“Tell the powers that be in the Prophet that you are the Prince’s designated press official,” said Jill. “I believe that will suffice?”

“Y-yes, my Prince,” said Hector, apparently still stunned. “I’ll start working on it immediately.”

“Good, here’s what your first piece could be,” said Jill, and drew out the parchment that Liam Bassenthwaite had procured for her. “Apparently the forbidden third floor corridor has something hidden in it, protected by several traps.”

“Any idea what it is?” asked Blaise, sitting up.

“No,” frowned Jill. “But, I’m hoping we can find out. In the meantime, be prepared for the possibility of making it public. I can’t believe many parents will be thrilled at this prospect.”

“No, they would not,” grinned Jason.

Hector took the offered parchment and nodded. “I’ll get started,” he said. 

Jill nodded, and frowned towards the transcript of Snape’s trial. “We also need to find out what happened to Snape,” she said. “If he really was sent to Azkaban, or if he was Kissed, or if he even is alive.”

“I’ll start looking into it,” said Julius.

“I’ll help,” said Daphne.

“Good,” said Jill. “We also need to think about Longbottom.”

“What? Why?” asked Blaise, irritated.

“Snape mentioned betraying his family,” said Jill, rubbing her temple. He might know something.” At everyone’s incredulous looks, she shrugged. “I know, I know, he’s an idiot. But we’d be foolish to discount him as a viable source of information.”

“We can dose him with Veritaserum,” suggested Ciel. “And ask him.”

“We’d have to get him somewhere quiet first,” said Myra. “Away from prying eyes.”

“Let’s not start thinking about kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived,” said Julius.

“Why not?” asked Vera. “We could do it easily.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Julius. “You don’t think he’s got people watching him? You want to tip our hand so blatantly?”

“Julius is right,” said Jason. “It’s tempting but we have to be smart about this. Longbottom is always surrounded by his lackeys and if we get him alone, someone is bound to notice. And the staff has to be keeping an eye on him too. It’s too dangerous.”

“Then how do we get the information we want?” asked Vera, crossing her arms.

“We use our Gryffindor spy,” said Blaise, looking at Jill.

Jill frowned a little. “Longbottom will not confide in Hermione, you know that,” she said.

“I didn’t say anything about confiding,” said Blaise. “She can wheedle it out of him, through flattery and whatnot.”

“Hermione?” asked Daphne incredulously. “She’s capable of many things but not that.”

“Worth a shot, especially if we coach her,” said Blaise.

“Maybe, but flattery might come from elsewhere,” said Jill, and turned to Hector. “Perhaps the press?”

“Augusta Longbottom must be keeping a beady eye on his mail, especially ones from the press,” said Hector.

“Most likely, yes,” said Jill. “But Spritzy can slip him a note and we can see if he’s willing to correspond with an admirer in the press who wants to know ‘the real Boy-Who-Lived’.”

“It might work,” said Julius.

“Or better yet,” said Vera. “If he’s interested to know about the person who betrayed his parents to the Dark Lord.”

“That might work better,” said Jill, nodding. “Pique his curiosity. If he does know, he might just be stupid enough to let it slip. If he doesn’t, then we know not to bother with questioning him further.”

The council nodded, and Jill turned her attention to the next item on their agenda. “The Sainsbury matter has yielded something useful, so I was thinking of rewarding Liam Bassenthwaite,” said Jill. “Nothing big, just something to encourage him because we’ll need him,” she added, when her council looked confused.

“I know he’s partial to Ogden’s finest,” said Myra.

“I’ll see he gets a bottle as a present,” said Ciel.

Jill gave a short nod of acknowledgment. “Vera, anything on Percy Weasley?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Vera. “We were right about him. He’s a little snake hiding in the house of the lions. And he also happens to have a little crush on Penelope Clearwater from Ravenclaw.”

“Good to know,” said Jill. “Anything on the Gringotts break-in?”

“Nothing beyond what was published,” said Daphne. “Nobody has any clues. Both Ciel and Julius checked with their contacts inside the Ministry as well, but since there was nothing taken, nobody is fussed about the investigation.”

“That’s to be expected,” said Jason. “The Ministry is incompetent as per usual.”

“In slightly better news, my business with Gringotts went well, and I might be able to form a better working relationship with them,” said Jill. “The power of gold and titles will work in my favour then.”

“Titles? Plural?” asked Myra.

“So far, yes,” said Jill shortly. “I’ll know more soon. Any idea what Longbottom did to get on the Quidditch team?”

“Yeah,” said Julius. “Finnigan and Weasley were talking about it in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Apparently, he threw his weight around. Their captain was reluctant but it sounds like the rest of the House ganged up.”

“Not unexpected,” said Blaise. “Hopefully a few good losses will knock him down a few pegs.”

“Can we count on Flint to lead his lot into victory?” asked Jill.

“Flint is a fanatic when it comes to Quidditch,” said Hector. “He’ll make sure to win.”

“Good,” said Jill. “I think that should be it for tonight. Our attention should definitely be on the third floor corridor.”

Jill’s council departed and she remained sitting in her armchair, her mind racing. She could hardly believe that she was only in her third week at Hogwarts. She felt like she had aged ten years since arriving at the school. 

“Did either of you have to face something like this, mum and dad?” she wondered aloud. 

Despite her naive words, she knew that only a few people had ever been in her position. Which brought her to the other thing that had been bothering her. Everyone had said that the Prince chosen by magic before her had been fifty years ago. Jill was really, really curious to know who that had been. With a sigh, she trudged off to bed, knowing that there was a lot of work to be done, and it would be some time before she could have all the answers she wanted.

~

Over the next few days, she left Vera looking into the Prince from fifty years ago, and enlisted Hector and Julius’ help to look into Muggle records of the deaths of her aunt and uncle to find clues for Snape’s secret. If they were surprised at the odd order, they didn’t let it show.

On the Wednesday of Jill’s third week at Hogwarts, the first article written by Victoria Pantherlily was published in the Daily Prophet. Daphne grinned as she passed the newspaper to Jill at breakfast. Jill scanned the article and nodded in satisfaction. Apparently, the article that Hector had shown her had been printed with minimal editing in the Daily Prophet. She smiled slightly at his pseudonym but thought it was very clever to choose a woman’s flowery name to hide his identity. She also knew that Jason and Myra’s teasing would be relentless over the next few days.

****_DANGEROUS SECRETS AT HOGWARTS_  
Are Our Children in Danger? _  
by  
Victoria Pantherlily_

_It is with great shock to inform the readers of the Daily Prophet that close sources within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry have bravely come forward and revealed that the staff is harbouring dangerous items within the school grounds._

_During the Welcoming Feast, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore announced that the third floor corridor on the right side was out of bounds to students. While not an unusual request, it then became increasingly clear that the area has been used to conceal dangerous items._

_We are well aware that Hogwarts is a safe institution with very good defenses, but parents and concerned citizens have expressed worry at the danger residing inside the castle._

_“I have three children who attend Hogwarts,” says Mrs. Perkins of Devonshire. “If there is something dangerous in the castle, then the parents deserve to know.”_

_“It’s a school, not Gringotts,” says Bartholomew Oliver, another parent._

_The school governors have also expressed similar concerns, noting that neither the Headmaster nor the staff had consulted them before using the school like a vault for dangerous items._

_“Going behind the back of the school governors is a new low for Dumbledore,” says Lucius Malfoy from his Wiltshire mansion. “I urge my fellow governors to launch an inquiry into this matter at once.”_

_Augusta Longbottom, in a rare move, supported Mr. Malfoy’s idea. “The Boy-Who-Lived is at Hogwarts. His safety is of the utmost importance.”_

_Our hopes are that this matter is thoroughly investigated by the school governors. The Ministry of Magic has not commented yet._

“A bit heavy-handed with the editing, but good enough,” thought Jill to herself, sending an approving nod at Hector, who looked pleased.

“Should we head to Potions?” asked Daphne.

“Yeah,” answered Jill, folding the paper and putting it in her bag. As they left the Great Hall, Jill was pleased to know that the student body was abuzz with the news about the third floor corridor. She also caught snippets of people whispering how Filch had taken up permanent vigil there since the news had hit.

In Potions, Slughorn was slightly distracted throughout the lesson, which gave Jill an idea. Telling Blaise and Daphne to go on ahead, she approached Slughorn once the lesson was over.

“Ah, Miss Potter. Is there something you needed?” he asked, with his usual jovial smile.

Jill put on her best innocent face. “I am just really worried, Professor,” she said.

Slughorn’s face immediately changed to one of concern. “About what, Miss Potter?”

“About the thing in the Daily Prophet, Professor,” said Jill, lowering her voice. “It said that the students were in danger. Is it true? Is there something dangerous in the school?”

“I am really not supposed to talk about this with students,” he said, looking uncomfortable.

Jill let her face fall. “I understand, Professor. It’s just that my foremost duty as Prince is to protect the students. I’ll just have to have faith, I suppose,” she said, feigning a brave smile.

Slughorn took the bait and lowered his voice. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me, do you understand?” He waited until Jill had nodded to continue. “Professor Dumbledore is keeping something for his friend, Nicolas Flamel. The Professors were asked to protect it, which we have done so using our own specialties. The students are perfectly safe, Miss Potter. You needn’t worry.”

“Thank you, Professor,” gushed Jill, doing an internal cheer. “It puts my mind at ease to hear you say that.”

“Not a problem at all, Miss Potter,” said Slughorn, patting her shoulder. “Off you go, then. Don’t want to be late for your next lesson.”

“Of course, Professor,” nodded Jill, gathering her bag.

“And Miss Potter?” called Slughorn.

“Yes?” asked Jill, turning around.

“Not a word to anyone else,” he said.

“I understand,” smiled Jill, and left. She turned into an empty corridor and called for Spritzy. “Keep an extra eye on Slughorn and see if he mentions telling me anything to someone else.”

Spritzy nodded and vanished. Jill cleared her expression and raced up to Transfiguration, barely making it before McGonagall.

“Are you okay?” asked Daphne, as Jill dropped into her seat, panting.

Jill just gave a wide smile in response, but didn’t have a chance to respond as McGonagall entered and began the lesson. At lunch, Blaise and Daphne gave her expectant looks, but she shook her head and kept them waiting until classes were over for the day.

“We’ll need to beg off working on homework with Hermione tonight,” said Jill, to Blaise and Daphne. “I want you both to join me for dinner in my quarters. Spritzy will make something.”

They both looked intrigued and nodded. Daphne left to find Hermione to let her know, as Blaise and Jill walked back to the common room.

“Is the council going to be joining us?” asked Blaise.

“No,” said Jill. “This one is just for the two of you. I’ll have them come in tomorrow.”

Blaise have her a contemplative look. “Should we be worried about something?” he asked.

“It’s hard to say,” said Jill. “Consider it an exercise in caution.”

Blaise smirked at her. “You wouldn’t be a Slytherin otherwise,” he said.

Jill paused in her steps and frowned a little. “Blaise, may I ask you something?”

He stopped and turned to her in surprise. “Sure,” he said.

“Do you trust people?” she asked.

“Broad question,” he answered without hesitation. “What people, specifically?”

“People, in general,” said Jill. “When you meet someone, what does it take for you to trust them?”

Blaise snorted. “As a personal rule, I don’t trust anyone but my mother,” he said.

“Right,” said Jill. “Never mind.” 

She resumed her steps towards the common room, walking past Blaise, who caught her arm to stop her. “That being said, it doesn’t mean I don’t trust people to do certain things,” he said.

“How so?” asked Jill.

“I trust you to be a competent Prince,” he said. “I trust Daphne to be loyal to you. I trust Hermione to want to beat me in Defence Against the Dark Arts.”

“So your trust is selective?” asked Jill.

“Something like that,” he said. He realised that he was still holding onto her arm and released her hastily. “But that’s about me. What’s right for me, may not be right for you.”

Jill nodded thoughtfully. “Thanks for sharing,” she said, and Blaise nodded as the two went to the common room and inside the Prince’s quarters.

Twenty minutes later, they were joined by Daphne, and Spritzy served the three of them dinner. They ate in silence for about ten minutes, before Jill cleared her throat.

“So, I wheedled some information out of Slughorn,” she said, taking a drink of water.

“And?” asked Daphne eagerly.

“We were right. It is definitely being used to keep something safe,” said Jill.

“Any idea what?” asked Blaise.

Jill took a bite of her pie and took her time answering. “Somewhat,” she answered. “At least, I have the means of finding out what it is. Slughorn let a hint slip.”

“Am I to assume you are telling us before your council because you think the item is dangerous?” asked Blaise.

“Yes,” she answered honestly. “Maybe even enough to tempt the strongest of loyalties. Which is why, I need to know something from the two of you. What would it take for you to betray me?”

They both paused with forks halfway to their mouths. Blaise recovered first. “My mother being in danger,” he answered.

Jill nodded. “Daphne?”

Daphne blinked a few times to clear the shock on her face. “Uh, my sister being in danger, I suppose,” she said, finally.

“What if you could usurp me instead?” asked Jill, matter-of-factly like she was discussing the weather.

“Wouldn’t want the responsibility,” said Blaise immediately. “If Britain were to fall to ruin, I’d jump ship to another part of the world. I have no loyalty here.”

“I couldn’t usurp you,” said Daphne, after thinking about it for a few moments. “Not with all the money and power in this world. The Greengrass name is too sullied, despite being neutral. My best bet would be to find a husband who wouldn’t throw me to the Death Eaters as a whore.”

Jill considered their responses and nodded. “Slughorn told me that Dumbledore was keeping something for Nicolas Flamel,” she said.

“Flamel? Why does that sound familiar?” asked Daphne, but Blaise’s eyes went wide.

“You’re joking,” he said. Jill gave him a look. “Alright, not joking then.”

Jill tossed Daphne a Chocolate Frog card. She caught it and saw that it was Dumbledore’s. She looked confused but read the back of the card and gasped.

“Of course, Flamel is the most well-known alchemist of our time,” said Daphne. “Well, time being relative, in his case.”

“I’ll say,” said Blaise. “He’s got to be almost seven hundred by now.”

“I’m surprised you know that,” said Jill. “I only knew he was an ancient alchemist that Dumbledore had worked with.”

“You’re telling me you don’t know?” asked Blaise incredulously, and then laughed when both Jill and Daphne looked confused. “Right, benefits of having a mother who went to Beauxbatons, I suppose. I grew up hearing stories. My mother admires Nicolas and his wife greatly. I even met them once, when I was younger.”

“So, you know what the item could be?” asked Jill.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, at the same time that Daphne said, “It’s got to be it.”

“What?” asked Jill, getting slightly annoyed being the only ignorant one.

“The Philosopher’s Stone,” said Daphne and Blaise in unison.

“Like from the stories?” asked Jill. “Lead into gold, immortality, the whole thing? Those are real?”

“Just one,” corrected Blaise. “Flamel was the only alchemist to successfully make a philosopher’s stone. And yes, that whole thing.”

“If there’s a philosopher’s stone at Hogwarts…” said Daphne, eyes going wide.

“We have to get it,” nodded Blaise.

They looked at Jill expectantly, who frowned a little. “Unlimited gold and immortality, huh? Neither of those we need,” she said. “But,” she added, before they could look too outraged. “We might have use for it in the future.”

“So, what’s the plan?” asked Daphne.

“I’m not sure yet,” said Jill. “Slughorn said the Professors are protecting it. No doubt it would involve complicated wards and defenses. I doubt three first years could do it.”

“Involving the council is too risky,” said Blaise. “Immortality and unlimited gold are enough motivation for most people to betray even the best leaders. It was a good call to not tell everyone, Jill.”

“Yeah,” agreed Daphne. “Although, I’m sure if no one else, Ciel would be on our side.”

“I think so too,” said Jill. “His loyalty to me is born out of familial obligations, rather than me being the Slytherin Prince. He might be our best shot at getting the stone. Let me think about it for a while.”

“In the meantime, we need to see if the Stone is moved now that we published that article,” said Daphne.

Jill grimaced. “Yeah, we kind of tipped our hand with that one,” she said. “But, we’ll figure it out.” She sighed and set her fork down. “On to slightly more pleasant matters, it’s Hermione’s birthday tomorrow. Any ideas?”

“Get her a gift and maybe a little cake?” suggested Daphne.

“I’ll get Spritzy to make something, and I have a book she might like,” said Jill. “Think that should be it. Do we want to work on our Charms homework?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Blaise, as Spritzy cleared the table. “Let’s get started.”

Daphne nodded. “Right.”


End file.
